


Rising and Falling

by NikkiSage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Baby is a horse, But the minor character is Uriel so it's okay, Castiel pretends to be Jimmy Novak, Dragon Castiel (Supernatural), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Horse Gadreel, Hunter Dean Winchester, M/M, Magical Realism, Men of Letters are Wizards, Minor Character Death, Perfect Pair Bang 2020 (Supernatural), Quests, Secret Identity, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 85,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiSage/pseuds/NikkiSage
Summary: Castiel is the greatest healer among dragon kind, but even he couldn’t save his brother from the poisons of hunters. Now, under the guise of being a human named Jimmy Novak, he must avenge his brother’s death and gain the trust of his killer.The only information he has about the hunter Winchester is that he is trained in both the killing and magical arts, is bloodthirsty, and will one day find a mystical weapon that will grant him enough power to eradicate all dragons.Castiel needs to kill Winchester before he can gain that power, and use that weapon to bring about his people’s salvation.However, Dean is nothing like Castiel’s reports claim. He’s a young man with a kind heart who treats horses with loveand respect, and is willing to go out of his way to help anyone in need. The closer Castiel gets to the hunter, the more mesmerized he becomes, and the more reluctant he is to finish his mission. It also brings up unsettling questions.If Dean isn’t the monster of this tale, then who is?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 33
Kudos: 187
Collections: Perfect Pair Bang 2020 (Official)





	1. An Awful Alarm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3195](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3195/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know another epic out already! Have to say the last couple of months working on two epics was super stressful, but a labor of love. I was first paired with Jaeh for PPB, but due to an uneven number of participants I was given an additional artist. At first my plan was to try to write a 20K fic (don't laugh, it could happen... one day) since I knew I was already working on one epic, but after seeing 3195's gorgeous artwork I couldn't help myself. 
> 
> Best way to describe this fic is mythology meets paleontology, as well as plenty of fluff.
> 
> 3195 is a super talented artist and be sure to check out their incredible art here: https://3195x.tumblr.com/post/618964642476228608/ppb-2020-rising-and-falling

There are few sounds that can awaken a slumbering dragon. As apex predators that expend most of their energy and calories for taking flight and for their fire, they require large amounts of deep sleep to restore that energy. Even mighty thunderstorms or earthquakes have failed to disturb a dragon’s rest. However, there is one sound that could wake them, no matter how deep asleep they were.

The distress cry of one of their own.

It was this wail of torment that woke Castiel.

The noise shot through him as if phantom claws were slicing their way across his cranium, leaving behind a fiery pain that threatened to consume him. Despite the excruciating toil, Castiel was still able to identify who the crier was.

Balthazar.

Eyes snapping wide open, Castiel neglected his waking routine of stretching out all of his limbs, and instead took straight into the air. He flew so fast out of the caverns of his cave that he almost collided into a couple of stalactites and even flew low enough to brush his hindpaw into a stalagmite. Unfortunate, since his paw pads were not as protected as the rest of his armored body, and he could feel where the point tore at the delicate flesh. However, the wound wasn’t deep enough for Castiel to pause in his mad dash to the outside. He would just heal it once he knew his friend was safe.

Although if his friend was in danger, what was the fate of his brother?

Balthazar, his brother Uriel, and another dragon named Virgil had gone to investigate their territories towards the west, and to gather more gold from their depositories. It should have been a standard mission, and only required three dragons for the amount of gold that they had to cart back with them. It should not be something that would warrant Balthazar coming home four days too early, with a distress call.

Castiel was grateful when he finally broke through the mouth of the cave and took to the stars above. He usually enjoyed his home, but at the moment it had felt too confining. He wasn’t alone in the night air for long as a flash of scarlet scales rushed to join him.

_/Castiel,/_ the red-scaled dragonette called out towards him. _/Did you hear? It’s—/_

_/Balthazar. I am aware, Anna,/_ Castiel interrupted, not in the mood for any pleasantries, but then immediately regretted it.

Anna huffed so angrily she blew out smoke. _/He’s my friend too, Castiel. And don’t forget, it is **my** mate who is out there with him./_

She gave Castiel no chance to apologize and instead took off ahead of him, her smaller and lighter frame able to move faster than his larger, bulky body could keep up with.

It was still strange to think of Anna as one of his sisters now. They had been part of the same garrison for centuries before their King had decided that Anna and Uriel would make the perfect union and should mate in time for the summer solstice of last year. Miniscule time in comparison to the millenia they were able to live. Castiel had personally survived to his fourth, while the King was on his twentieth. However, despite their mating being arranged, there was no affection lost between her and Uriel. The King had been right in his prediction for the two.

Then again, the King was all-knowing and always right.

Castiel quickened his pace and by the time he caught up to the sounds of the cry, it was at a neighboring cliffside about five miles away from the communal cliffs. The situation must be dire if Balthazar couldn’t make it closer to the flock, which was strange. Why come so close to the nesting grounds but stop before entering them? The rest of his thoughts came to a halt when he spotted the familiar black and white scales of his brother—laying unnaturally prone on the ground—as well as the scarlet scales of the dragonette coiled tightly around him.

_/Uriel!/_ Castiel screeched, not caring who he shoved out of his way as he moved closer, as there was already a crowd of members of their flock from all stations gathering around the still figure. _/Out of my way! I’m a healer! Let me through!/_

Eventually the dragons took note of his sapphire and black scales, and quickly moved out of the way, bowing their heads low in reverence to him, but Castiel paid little attention to them. Instead his eyes kept darting back and forth between his brother, Anna, and the yellow and grey dragon in front of him.

_/Balthazar,/_ he addressed the flashy looking dragon. Usually the dragon would polish his scales until they gleamed like precious metals, but now they were dulled and coated in a brown stain that Castiel theorized was dried blood. Though whether it was Balthazar’s blood or another’s, he didn’t know.

The other dragon nodded his head respectfully at Castiel, another cause for concern. Even as a fletchling, Balthazar refused to show deference to Castiel, as he refused to bow to his own friend. He also claimed it was a way to teach Castiel humility, though Castiel felt like he had no need for a lesson in that.

_/What happened?/_

_/We ran into a **hunter** ,/ _Balthazar spat the word out so angrily that a spark of ember shot out of his mouth. _/But not an ordinary one. This one knew wizardry as well. We thought nothing of the pesky arrows from his human weapon, but then it went through our scales and we felt an electrical current run through us. As if we were hit with one of Raph’s thunderbolts! He hit us all with his magical bolts, but he went after Uriel with extra cruelty. One of his shots got lucky and… Cassie, it pierced his grace./_

Castiel froze. Grace was the life essence of dragons. It was what gave them their ability to breathe fire, to take flight, and even their unique talents; such as Castiel’s ability to heal and Raphael’s ability to control lightning. The essence was always flowing across all parts of the body, but it ran the strongest along the larynx. Anything to disrupt that flow was a death sentence.

However, Castiel wasn’t the greatest healer in their flock for nothing.

Nudging past Balthazar, Castiel weaved his way over towards his brother. On closer inspection, the white spots of the scales that made up his underbelly were scorched black and coated in viscous blood that had not had the time to dry. It shone bright red from arterial blood, as well as the cerulean blue solvent of his grace. His brother was quaking and flailing from his pain, while his mate did her best to keep him pinned.

_/Please, Uriel,/_ Anna pleaded. _/You need to keep still. You’ll only bleed more if you keep thrashing./_

Uriel was deaf to her pleas, but he froze as Anna’s own magic took its effect. Anna’s gift was in time manipulation, or rather the ability to temporarily freeze, slow down, or speed up time in a designated area. Her power required a lot of focus and time to be able to cast, so she rarely got to use it in battle.

Castiel was grateful for her magic, as it was able to temporarily prevent Uriel from bleeding out. However, he would still need to work fast if he wanted to save his brother’s life.

Minding his claws and making sure they were properly retracted, he gently placed his one forepaw over the wound in Uriel’s neck while he placed the other over another impressive hole in his abdomen. With his eyes closed, Castiel reached inside for his own grace, urging it to come out from its own channels and slowly course its way through Castiel’s paws and into Uriel. He guided it through Uriel’s channels, using it to try to patch up the holes in the walls of his brother’s channels. There was no point in healing the rest of his body if his grace was at risk of leaking everywhere.

But no matter how hard Castiel tried to patch at the wall, his hard work would quickly come undone. Usually when he was healing something, it felt like trying to patch up a leak in one of the cavern walls. Yet this was different. It felt like trying to gate in the mighty ocean with only a wall made out of sand. No matter how hard he tried to pack his grace into a hole, it would only hold up for a couple of seconds before crumbling apart moments later.

He wasn’t aware of how laborious his breathing was getting, or the way his forepaws were shaking with effort as he desperately tried to fight against nature.

_/No,/_ Castiel raged, though he wasn’t sure at whom. _/I will not lose you to human hands. I won’t!/_

Despite his pledge, he could feel his own grace grow weaker, but still he pushed on. His vision was starting to blur around the edges but he didn’t care.

_/Enough of this,/_ Balthazar growled out before biting Cas on the scruff of his neck and yanking him away from Uriel.

Castiel could hear the other dragons in attendance gasp in horror at the way Balthazar dared to scruff someone of royal blood, as if he were just a kit or fletchling.

_/Let me go!/_ Castiel yelled, wishing he could squirm but his body was paralyzed against doing so. _/I need to save him!/_

_/At the cost of your own life? No, Castiel. There’s nothing more you can do for him./_

_/Please, I-I have to try. I have to do something!/_

_/You already did, Cassie. You already did./_

Despite Castiel’s pleas, which later turned into threats, and his desperate attempts to wrangle himself free, Balthazar kept a sturdy grip on him, even biting down hard enough to draw a bead of blood from Castiel.

Balthazar was lucky that even in Castiel’s anger, he wouldn’t dare report that Balthazar accidentally drew blood. Drawing blood from someone of his station would either be immediate death, or for his wings to be cut off and for him to be forced to live the rest of his days as a drake.

Eventually, Anna’s magic failed as well, and Uriel’s final breath was marked by the anguished howls of his widowed mate.


	2. A Funeral Flight

Everyone knew when the King approached; they could all feel the thrum of his giant wingspan as it sliced through the air, as well as the sadness that was rolling off of him like rain during a thunderstorm. The flock might have lost a great warrior, and Castiel lost a brother, but it was the King who lost his son.

Despite his grief, the King was a tremendous sight to behold, and was nothing like the other dragons. The typical female dragon was only one tone for her scales, while males were two-tone, usually a dark or dull shade followed by something more vibrant. The King was the only one who had three-tone scales. Even in the night sky, he managed to glow with his gold and silver trimmed scales that lined him from head to tail, along with the glittering diamond scales that graced his underbelly as well as the impressive plumage to his 70 feet wingspan.

Castiel was sure that anyone would be able to recognize the magnificence that was their king; even creatures as dimwitted as humans.

Though Castiel really didn’t want to think about him right now.

Trailing close behind the King were three other dragons, who also had brilliant coat colors. One was silver and emerald, the other was gold and ruby, and the final was black and amethyst. Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael.

Further behind were other members of the royal caverns, both of royal and common blood, from the elders to dragonlings. At any other occurrence, the young dragons—anyone under their first century—and the elders—those over their tenth millennium—would have been encouraged to stay in their section of the caverns, but tonight they had to hold their own.

Tonight would be a royal funeral procession.

Castiel gingerly nudged Anna with his nose, slowly extracting her limp form away from her mate’s corpse. She had no energy to fight him, all she could do was stare back at him with dulled, brown eyes.

 _/I don’t want to lose him,/_ her voice whispered across his mind, too weak to even be at full volume.

 _/We already have,/_ Castiel admitted, before slowly nudging her to sit up on her haunches.

It took a couple of tries, but he was able to get her in a more presentable position by the time the King had landed. They both bowed their heads low in reverence, but neither bothered to say a word to their Almighty. They barely dared to breathe until he slipped past them, eager to check on his son one last time.

 _/Hunters,/_ the King growled furiously, his rumble so loud that it shook the ground beneath their feet. _/Not just any Hunters; this smells like highgrade human magic as well. It’s just as I feared, the Hunting clan and the Men of Letters clan have intermixed, and now a new breed of dragon hunter exists./_

The other dragons chittered nervously. They had all heard the predictions hundreds of years ago, but they had hoped that it would be many centuries before the King’s prophecy would come true.

 _/What does this mean?/_ Castiel bravely ventured.

 _/It means,/_ the King swung his mighty head towards Castiel, _/that we have much work to do. But first, let us put your poor brother to peace./_

He looked at Balthazar and the silver and charcoal dragon that was Virgil. / _Are you strong enough to carry your fallen warrior?_ /

Both dragons bowed their heads low, until their noses were touching the ground. _/It would be an honor, your Majesty,/_ they both echoed.

Castiel refrained from pointing out how both warriors had carried him this far despite their injuries. He thought it was unfair to force them to continue to push themselves, but deep down he knew that it was their burden to bear.

The price they paid for returning alive, while a prince died.

Castiel regretted the fact that he had used most of his healing magic on trying to bring life back to the moribund, instead of preserving some for the survivors. However, neither Balthazar nor Virgil showed their fatigue, and carefully maneuvered Uriel’s body so that they had a secure hold on him. With Balthazar supporting the upper half of the body and Virgil with the bottom, they took off into the sky, towards Mt. Eden.

The funeral procession was slow, especially as word spread among the flock and others started to join the crowd. Castiel’s attention kept flickering between Balthazar and Virgil, the King, his living brothers, and Anna. Anna most of all, as every now and then her wings would stop moving—as if they refused to carry her any further—and she would slowly descend until Castiel caught her and guided her into motion. Very much like an instructor teaching a fletchling how to fly. She would be alright for a couple more wingbeats, before the cycle repeated again.

Castiel did not blame the widow. The King himself had perceived that she and Uriel would be a perfect pair, and she had lost that gift. Worse, the two of them had been companions for millennia before being mates. The hole Uriel left behind must have been devastating.

They finally reached Mt. Eden by the time the sky started to lighten with the approach of dawn.

Castiel wished it would stay dark. It didn’t feel right for a new day to begin so soon after losing his brother; like the world deserved to mourn with the rest of them.

Balthazar and Virgil carefully landed on the summit, and gingerly laid Uriel down near the crater of the volcano that made Mt. Eden, before fully stretching themselves out into a low bow. Moments later, the King landed beside them, and immediately went over towards Uriel to prepare him for the afterlife.

 _{It’s such a waste,}_ a voice complained in Castiel’s mind, sending a tingle down his spine in the process. Although the speaker was speaking telepathically like Cas’ flock, there was an… an _otherness_ about it.

Before Cas had more time to reflect on the words, a shadowy figure descended next to him. Seeing them in full focus did not help with their ominous presence; in fact, they were more gruesome closer up.

The creature was no dragon as they only had two hindlimbs, and where their forelimbs would be was instead encased in a thin, wing membrane. A wyvern. There were other differences as well. The wyverns’ scales were smaller and smoother than a dragon’s armored scales. Their body structure was also thinner and more sleek than the dragon’s; made for speed and to be aerodynamic, whereas a dragon’s was meant for strength and resilience. Unlike dragons, who came in all shades and hues, all wyverns had black scales. Though most of the scales were covered by the stark white armor that their flock preferred.

Armor made from the bones of their dead.

Castiel shuddered, recalling the wyvern’s words.

 _/Hello, Billie. I didn’t think you would be awake at this hour. As for what we are doing, we prefer returning our dead back to the magma we were first created from. To us, it’s not a waste, but completing the circle,/_ he calmly explained, not wanting to accidentally insult the wyvern princess.

Billie was the firstborn child of the wyvern flock, though their leader was referred to as the Grim Reaper. Ghastly term, but the wyvern did seem to be the morbid type. Regardless, Billie was an honored guest to their flock, as the King and the Grim discussed a potential meeting between Billie and the King’s eldest son, Michael.

Billie had no fear in voicing how much she disliked the idea of being mated to a dragon, but even she could see that the union would benefit both her people and their’s. With the rise of human hunters, both of their species were at the threat of becoming extinct. Together, they had a better chance at defending themselves as well as destroying any human threats.

Anna, however, had no qualms about being undiplomatic _, /Disgusting. I refuse to wear my mate’s corpse!/_

Billie twitched her ears in irritation. _{I didn’t say that you’d have to. And you can do more with a body than just use it for armor. There’s also— }_

 _/How about,/_ Cas interrupted, afraid to let the conversation to continue into a fight, _/we respect each other’s cultural differences?/_

Both Anna and Billie huffed in annoyance, refusing to comment.

Fortunately, the King had moved onto the next portion of the ceremony, and was ready to speak to the crowd.

 _/My flock, my brethren. While it is always good to see my whole family, I am saddened that it would be because of a death. Especially of one of my younger sons,/_ the King turned sadly to look at his son’s corpse. _/Even though I have lost a son before, I am no more prepared for this death as I was for Gabriel’s. Yet here I am again, with another son slain by humans._

_/Uriel, the dragon of pearl and ebony wings was beloved by many, and with the gift of telekinesis. He had lived 4,285 years and during that time, he'd managed to serve as both one of my warriors and one of the commanding officers. He leaves behind his mate of only one year, but who he shared many millennia as a companion, Anna of the scarlet wings. Anna, who had been planning to start a nest with Uriel in the coming warm season./_

Castiel heard a mixture of angry grumbles and distressed chitters. Anna tensed by his side.

The King turned his head towards Anna; his blue eyes shimmering bright before changing to gold, to silver, and then back to blue. _/My gift of foresight can see into other realities. If my son had made it, you two would have had a healthy clutch of three hatchlings. They all would have inherited your red coloration./_

Anna made a low whine in the back of her throat. Castiel knew the King thought it was a comfort for what he told Anna, but Castiel found it cruel. The dragoness didn’t need further reminders about how much she lost this evening.

_/However, tonight I make this vow now, to all of you. This will be the last son I bury because of those miscreants. The humans want a war? Then we will give them a war!/_

Many of the dragons bellowed in agreement, Castiel being one of the loudest. The humans had been closing in on their lands for centuries, forcing them to retreat further and further into the mountains. They had lost hundreds of their members, and countless eggs because of the humans’ brutality.

Worse, the humans liked to use their corpses for their dark magic. The younger the dragon, the more potent the spellwork. The humans’ favorite parts were their heart, their brain, their liver, and the dust of their bones. Those and their scales, which the humans liked to fashion into either jewelry or fancy armor.

Though usually there was barely enough scales from a hatchling to make more than a single pair of boots.

Absolutely vile creatures, the humans were.

 _/But for the rest of the day we mourn Uriel, as well as all of the other members we have lost to the humans’ senseless violence,/_ the King continued, his gaze sweeping around the cliffside, before lingering on Castiel _. /But come tomorrow, we will discuss our next course of action./_

 _/Can we know one thing?/_ Castiel voiced, before logic could stop him. _/Do you know the name of our brother’s killer?/_

The King’s scales puffed up in anger. Castiel hoped that the anger was directed at the murderer and not at Castiel for asking the question. _/The name of the killer is a man that is a scourge even among human kind. A man who is a descendent of both dragon hunters, and the magic users that have harvested our organs for their own power. The worst of the worst. His name is Dean Winchester./_


	3. Grief and Hope

The rest of the funeral passed by in a strange, oxymoronic mixture of too fast and too slow. There were moments where Castiel swore he stared off into the distance for just a lone second, and suddenly the sun was already in a different position, and other times he could feel every microsecond pass by, crawling agonizingly slowly. 

Anna looked like she fared even worse than him, her eyes a constant glaze. There were only three moments where Castiel caught her looking at Uriel’s body, and each time her body quivered to the point that even her teeth clattered together, before she ducked her face into the crook of Castiel’s wings, as if she was still a fletchling. 

Castiel made no commentary about this, even on their private frequency, and let her hide until she felt sturdy enough to face the outside once more. On one occasion, Anna took the liberty of her position to start preening some of the more delicate parts of his wings, specifically the area where his scales started to transition into his feathery plumage. It was only once she repositioned all of his feathers into a semblance of order, and took the liberty of polishing some of his scales with her snout, that she finally removed herself from his cover. 

Castiel enjoyed being preened. At his age, it was rare to receive communal grooming, as he was either expected to do it himself or to have a mate by now to do it for him. However, it was a welcome treat during special gatherings, or when a flock member needed comforting. It was equally stress relieving to be the preener as it was to be the preenee, and was encouraged during times of strife. 

None could fault Castiel for enjoying this moment. However, he did have to control himself to make sure that he didn’t start purring as a result of the feeling. Even if it was a natural reaction, it was not an appropriate response for something as somber as his brother’s death day.

Castiel only came to after the King stopped praying, and had made Balthazar and Virgil stand back up for the final phase of the ceremony. With one final nuzzle given to his departed son, the King leapt back towards the clouds and hovered over the mouth of the volcano, followed closely by the warriors carrying the lost prince. 

_/Now, my son, it is time to return you back to Mt. Eden. For it was here where our ancestors were first sculpted from the magma of the earth, and thus we shall all return to it once our last breath has been released./_

With the King’s final words, both warriors dropped Uriel’s body into the volcano below. If Castiel listened carefully, he could hear the magma hissing as it slowly devoured everything that had once made up his brother. The very idea of it sickened him, and he quickly had to distract himself by listening for something even further in the distance. 

Like the sound of songbirds waking up with the day. A pretty melody that sounded almost like they were mocking Castiel and his loved ones for their pain. 

Castiel had the sudden hankering for some roasted poultry. 

Castiel and Anna remained rooted in their spot on the cliff, even as other grievers left, including other members of his family. There was a good chance that neither of them would have noticed until the sun rose too high and blinded them, but fortunately Balthazar was looking out for the both of them, and whipped Castiel with his tail when he flew by. 

_/Come on, Anna, we should return to the caverns./_

He turned around and got into his launch position, but paused when he didn’t hear Anna do the same. Craning his long neck back towards her, he watched as she stared down into the volcano’s crater.

 _/Is it really over that fast?/_ she whispered in disbelief. 

_/I do believe the funeral took a couple of hours. Probably three, judging by the position of the rising sun./_

_/Not that,/_ Anna huffed in frustration. _/Just… just everything else. He was here one second and gone the next. Just flickering away like a tiny ember in the wind. Is this really all we amount to at the end of everything? A last breath, some pretty words, and then magma sludge?/_

Castiel could feel his ears start to droop, but he did his best to school his features into a professional mask. _/What are you trying to say, Anna? You are a warrior. You’ve seen death before. We have both lost comrades in arms./_

_/Yes but this is different! This was Uriel. My mate! My friend since we were hatchlings. He was… he was never supposed to leave me./_

Anna began to tremble again, and Castiel rejoined her, shepherding her body closer to him with his tail, while wrapping her in his wings. _/I understand a bit about what you are feeling. He wasn’t my mate, but he was my brother. More than that, he was my littermate. We have been together since we were both eggs in the same nest. It… feels odd knowing that from this day forward, I am the only one left./_

Anna’s ears pinned themselves further down, and she folded her wings closer towards herself. _/I’m sorry, Castiel. I shouldn’t have… I—/_

_/It’s alright. Grief can bring out the worst of us, and we both are running on little to no sleep. What we need now is rest./_

_/I… I don’t want to go back to my sleep chamber. Not alone./_

Castiel tilted his head in thought. _/I would offer you to join me in my chambers, but I’m afraid my nest is only big enough for one./_

There was never any need for someone like Castiel to waste time in expanding his nest. Plus, he liked the way it was; how it conformed itself perfectly to his body shape, was the perfect amount of softness, and was insulated to keep him at the exactly right temperature to be warm, but not uncomfortably hot. 

_/You can join me in mine. It’s made for two, and Uriel is… was… was broader than you./_ Anna couldn’t even look at Castiel. 

He didn’t know if it was from the shame of asking for platonic cuddles in the nest that was made for her and her mate, or if it was to hide her distress because she now had to change the verb tense for anything relating to Uriel.

It was odd to think about. His brother could no longer be an _is_ , only a _was_. 

_/If you are comfortable with that, then I have no issues with it./_

_/Thank you,/_ her voice brushed lightly against his mind, but he could feel the gratitude she projected. 

_/Don’t thank me. The affection will be good for both of us, and I do miss the cuddle piles we had back in the days of our youth./_

_/That’s right. I forgot that you used to love being the center of the piles./_

Castiel would neither confirm nor deny that statement. _/Come on, it won’t do for either one of us to start falling asleep mid-flight, and since I’ve never seen your newest cavern, I’m not certain as to where I need to go./_

Anna nodded as she tucked her wings even tighter around herself until they laid perfectly flat against her back. From there, she coiled her body for a pounce, most of her weight resting on her hindlegs and her muscular tail, while her hindpaws slowly raised before kicking off from the ground. It was only once her back legs were no longer on the terrain that her wings quickly snapped open, and she used the sudden energy to propel herself further into the air. Castiel followed her lead and within moments they were hundreds of feet above ground. 

The flight back to the caverns took longer than it had to get to Mt. Eden as they were both running on little energy, and when they finally reached Anna’s home, neither had the energy to do anything but crawl into the nest and pass out. Castiel didn’t even pay attention to where they were walking, which was probably why when he woke up later that day, he was confused. 

His panic of waking up in a strange nest with an unfamiliar warm body was replaced by melancholy when he remembered what happened. Anna whined softly as she felt Castiel shift, but a gentle nose nuzzle against her head quieted her down.

 _/Why are you awake?/_ she complained, not bothering to open her eyes.

_/I shifted and realized I wasn’t in my bed. It startled me, that’s all./_

_/Then go back to sleep./_

_/I should stay awake. The King will most likely be calling for an assembly within the next hour or so./_

Anna growled in annoyance, _/I could just slow down time so we can both sleep more./_

_/We both know that your magic doesn’t work like that. You can slow us down, but you can’t slow the world down./_

_/It would still feel like we had gotten more sleep./_

_/For me, but it is too much energy for you to waste. I’ll be fine, I have survived on less sleep before./_

_/Alright, but you are not allowed to leave this nest until I say so,/_ she argued before rolling over on top of him and wrapping around him like when they were kits. 

_/You do realize you are no longer the commander of my garrison, correct?/_ Castiel teased. 

_/Only because_ somebody _had to go ahead and get an offer to lead their own./_

 _/I apologize for wanting a promotion. Though I do believe you said you’d forgive me for switching units, if I forgave you for—/_ He foolishly remembered what the rest of the promise was, but he had already said too much, and he could feel Anna stiffen beside him.

 _/For taking off to become a mother,/_ she whispered sadly. 

_/Anna, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—/_

_/But you did. And it’s alright. Let’s just get all of the awkwardness out of the way now,/_ Anna spoke, before forcing her body into a relaxed pose again. _/And… well, His Majesty was right, Uriel and I were talking about having a clutch. We were thinking about trying by the spring equinox./_

Castiel was silent, knowing that his words of sympathy would bring Anna no comfort. 

_/He actually wanted us to try sooner, but I just wasn’t ready. It’s just so much of your life that you have to give up. A year for an egg to hatch, ten years for them to be defenseless kits, another twenty as fletchlings, and then they are still dependent on your help until they reach their first century of life. That’s a lot of time to dedicate to tiny beings. Especially since I’m the one who would have to put my life on hold./_

Castiel flinched. Yes, a century was a short time in comparison to how long they lived, but it was still an impressive amount of time to dedicate to one task.

_/But I was getting there. I was really looking forward to starting a clutch of our own. Daydreaming about what they would’ve looked like. Now I know what they could have been, but I’ll never be able to touch them./_

Castiel was once again angry about his father’s callousness. 

_/We had been playing around with names. Since they would be of noble blood, we were looking only at the names that ended in ‘el’./_ Since Anna was of common blood, she had a simple name. _/I liked Samandriel, after the commander that had trained me for the royal army. Uriel liked Ariel since it was a combination of both of our names, and… well, we picked Cassiel as our third choice in honor of you, especially since…/_

Especially since the King had predicted that Castiel would have no mate and no descendents. He was destined for a life of bachelorhood. 

_/Those are lovely names. Perhaps after the mourning period, you should go before His Majesty and ask if there is another suitable match for you./_

Anna let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the mostly empty cave. _/Castiel, look around. Our numbers are dwindling rapidly. Why else do you think Chuck is arranging marriage with Michael and that wyvern, and Lucifer with a wyrm. Or why you…/_ She shook her head sadly. _/I’m afraid that unless you ask for me, I will be alone./_

_/Is that what you want?/_

Anna laughed again, _/You were my mate’s brother, and one of my underlings. I think it will take another millennia or two for me to see you as anything else. But maybe… maybe then?/_

 _/Maybe,/_ Castiel echoed. He agreed with Anna. To him she’d always be his original commanding officer, and worse, it would be a betrayal to his brother if he took his mate. _/However, know this. I will always be here for you. I don’t need to love you in the romantic sense to know that I will do everything in my power to make sure you feel loved and safe./_

Anna opened her brown eyes and studied Castiel closely. _/Perhaps you’re right. All we really need is to be the other’s friend./_

Castiel nuzzled her again in response, and to his delight she let out a small trill of a purr. It wasn’t much, but it was hope that things would get better for her. 


	4. A Father's Pride

_/Are you sure I should be here?/_ Anna asked Castiel in private. Outwardly she presented herself as a confident diplomat, standing tall at the cliffside spot that once belonged to her mate, but Castiel could see the way her claws were digging into the ground beneath her.

_/You are Uriel’s mate. The law is that when a mate dies, their other half inherits what they had. You are his voice for this plane./_

_/I suppose you are right. There’s already one empty spot,/_ Anna glanced over towards her right and Castiel followed her movement to the spot where Gabriel once sat.

_/Yes,/_ he shifted and unconsciously pulled his wings tighter against himself. _/Also, if Billie and the wyrm are allowed in here, they should have no issues with you./_

The wyrms were far distant relatives of dragons, some humans even had the nerve to refer to them as legless dragons. Though it wasn’t a far off statement. Wyrms had snake-like bodies, which they used for undulating, slithering and climbing to great heights, and they could even glide for short distances. However, they were happiest underground, and spent most of their lifetime digging burrows. That and attacking unsuspecting prey from underneath their own feet.

Wryms were significantly longer than dragons, measuring at 42 feet in length compared to Castiel’s 18 feet. Their heads were similar in shape, but had three rows of sharp canines instead of the typical omnivore dentition of a dragon. They also lacked ears, but had massive horns where the ears should be.

Castiel thought they were horrendous creatures, though that might be a result of their personalities being as revolting as their appearance.

Lilith— Lucifer’s intended bride—was at least pleasing to the eyes. Unlike dragons, it was the female wyrms that were two-tone. Lilith had luminescent white scales that were pristine despite her burrowing lifestyle, with a vivid blood red underbelly, and a delicate set of horns that resembled a deer’s, which she had garlands of flowers wrapped around to make look more feminine. What was off putting were her milky white eyes, which looked like the eyes of the blind, but with which she could see with perfect clarity.

Lilith was young compared to his brother, only one millennium to his five, but she was infatuated with the older dragon. Even now she was wrapped around his feet, looking quite pleased with herself. Lucifer… well, Lucifer saw the benefits of marrying the young Queen of the Wyrms, and knew that it was the fastest route to him becoming a king in his own right.

Michael was by himself, no sign of Billie. Though seeing as how there were no empty spots for her—not counting Gabriel’s spot—and her general attitude, it seemed like she was unwilling to share a spot with Michael like Lilith was with her betrothed. It was also no secret that the wyverns did not like the notion of war, and had a strict stance against waging warfare. If the King truly wanted to declare war on the humans, Billie might be talking with her own father over what they should do.

Raphael was also alone, and was looking at Michael in a way that suggested that the two of them were having their own private conversation. However, everyone immediately froze and stood up straighter when they heard the sound of the King flying through.

_/Let us waste no further time. We have much that needs to be discussed,/_ the King said in place of a greeting. _/Please save any questions until after I’ve finished speaking./_

_/I have spent the past couple of hours scrying, to figure out what was going on with the Winchester boy, and it is even worse than I thought. This **human** ,/ _the King spat the word out like it was a curse, _/has been raised since his early years to be a ruthless dragon killer. He’s trained in both the Campbell dragon hunting arts—/_

Castiel’s intake of breath was too sharp, but he couldn’t help it. The Campbells were notorious for slaying dragons. Worse, they were infamous for stealing dragon eggs from dragon clutches and making soup out of them for some twisted belief that devouring them would make them stronger.

Instead, they were just causing the dragon species to dwindle closer towards extinction.

_/As well as the wizarding arts by the Men of Letters. What’s worse, he has access to their history, including some documents that were once considered lost. He’s discovered records of a horrible weapon that both our side and his side thought was only legend. A magical wand strong enough to kill any creature instantly. Including me./_

Everyone in the room froze.

_/How is that even possible?/_ Michael asked in shock.

_/It was crafted by a powerful wizard known as Samuel Colt, who took advantage of an astronomical rarity— the perfect alignment of the moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, as well as the passing of Halley’s comet—and used the increased magic to craft his powerful weapon. But once he realized the enormity of what he created, he hid it where no one could find it. That is no one, but someone both foolish and brave enough to go through the obstacles he created. And Winchester found the very journal that describes where he can find the wand./_

_/So what? We kill the human and take the map for ourselves?/_ Lucifer demanded. He was always the one for brute force.

_/Therein lies another problem. The map was created to be read only by worthy, human eyes. If we kill him too soon, then we risk losing the weapon as well./_

Castiel stiffened, _/Are you suggesting—/_

_/That we wait until Winchester finds the weapon, kill him when he’s already weak from his journey, and keep the weapon for ourselves?/_ Michael broke in.

_/Exactly, Michael!/_ the King said, looking proudly at his eldest. _/That weapon is powerful, and with our species getting weaker and weaker, we need every advantage we can get for our survival./_

_/How do we guarantee that we can kill Winchester when his guard is down? For someone with his training level, shouldn’t he be able to strike any dragon down as soon as he has the wand?/_ Castiel broached.

_/Good point, my youngest, but fear not, for I have already foreseen a way around this. Winchester will not try to kill one of us if he doesn’t know what we are./_

Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

_/What I am proposing is that one of you will join Winchester on his quest. At this very instant the human is asking around for a cleric—a human highly skilled in white magic—to aid him in his quest. He will eventually be pointed in the direction of a human named Jimmy Novak, but instead of Jimmy answering his aid, he’ll get—/_

_/One of us,/_ Lucifer jumped in, his giant maw open wide into a devious smirk. _/You want one of us to go in, obtain the shape of the puny cleric, and walk beside Winchester. Slowly gaining his trust?/_

_/Winchester will think you are brothers in arms, and will have no reason to guess a hidden agenda. Get close to him, make him trust you, and then strike once the wand is within our reach!/_

The other dragons voiced their agreement and growing excitement.

_/Who will have the honor of doing this mission?/_ Raphael asked, puffing his chest out in pride.

_/A cleric is primarily known for their healing magic, and there is only one of you here who is gifted in the healing arts and who I can trust with such an important task./_

Castiel could feel everyone’s eyes turn towards him, and felt the urge to become like a wyrm and dig his way out of the room and away from their expectations.

Instead he swallowed down his insecurities and looked his father in the eyes, _/When do you wish me to head out?/_

He never seen the King look so proud of him.


	5. Fare Thee Well

Castiel didn’t need to ask Anna what she thought about him leaving for his mission, he could clearly tell by her body language that she was not in favor of it. Or at least of him being the one to go. She watched him while curled inside his nest as he darted across the cavern to make sure that everything was in its place and would be fine to be left alone for the next year. Anna’s ears were pinned down to her skull, her pupils wide, her scales and feathers were both puffed out, and her tail was rhythmically smacking the rock floor.

THUMP. … THUMP…. THUMP.

_/You are free to stay in the cavern while I’m gone. Considering how you have already made yourself at home in my nest./_

Anna hissed low at him.

_/Anna, you aren’t a kit anymore. Are you going to tell me what has you so tense or are you going to continue to skulk throughout our goodbyes?/_

_/The King should be letting me go with you!/_

Castiel looked down, not denying that.

_/I understand why he wants Balthazar to check in on you, since he can turn invisible, but my magic is also good for stealth! I can freeze time so that the… the **monster** doesn’t even know I was there. And imagine how much quicker the end could be. He grabs for the wand and I freeze him and we kill him before he even knows what hits him! Or perhaps I slow down time for him, so that he is very aware about what hits him. I could make him live through his agony for years!/_

_/I think that is the very reason the King didn’t bring you on this mission./_

_/Why?/_ Anna growled. _/Is it because I’m a dragoness and should be a widow in mourning?/_

 _/Because you are too emotionally compromised,/_ Castiel snapped, and Anna puffed even more in rage.

_/I am a warrior, just like you. I have more years of command than both you and Uriel combined. I know how to handle myself on a mission./_

_/You’ve never had an enemy that was this personal before. He killed your mate—/_

_/He killed your brother!/_

_/Yes, but you aren’t hearing me spout off the ways I want to torture and maim Winchester,/_ Castiel bellowed, his own scales and plumage puffing out.

They both stared at each other before Castiel sighed and forced himself to calm back down, _/Anna, I’m glad you aren’t going on this mission—/_

THUMP… went her tail.

_/Because I need you to stay home. I need to have something to return to, something that will make this quest worth it. I need to know that you are safe, so that I can’t do anything rash that could jeopardize our future./_

Anna’s tail stopped slapping the floor, but she still looked peeved.

_/Promise me you will take care of our people? You oversee both Wednesdays and Thursdays now for their aid and guidance. I don’t trust any of my other brothers to take care of them with the same gentleness and compassion that you are capable of./_

Anna relaxed at that. _/I promise./_

Castiel fully relaxed as well. _/I promise to call as frequently as I am able. I know there are parts of the journey where I will be out of range from you, but there will be others where I should have a perfect frequency./_

_/I’ll be sure to keep you up all night./_

Castiel rumbled in a short purr, _/I wouldn’t have it any other way./_

He moved back over to Anna and rested his head on top of hers. _/The sun may set tonight, but it will rise again in the morning./_

 _/Just as we will be reunited again,/_ Anna completed the rest of the greeting. _/Just don’t take too long./_

 _/It will only be a year,/_ Castiel reminded her.

_/A lot can happen within a year./_

_/I promise, I’ll stay safe and won’t do anything reckless./_

_/Good, or else I’ll have to kill Balthazar for letting you get hurt./_

_/And the drake that will follow me on my mission./_

Anna wrinkled her nose and curled her mouth in distaste. _/They trust a drake?/_

Drakes were dragons that had committed crimes against the King and, as punishment, had their wings cut off and were forced into servitude for atonement. Generally, not the most trustworthy.

_/Not as an ally but as a tool. Humans need to ride horses for transportation—/_

Anna snickered, _/I forgot that you won’t be allowed to fly for a year./_

_/It gets worse. Horses, like all animals, are sensitive to magical creatures. No normal horse will let me on their back, and it will raise suspicion if I am forced to walk. In order to circumnavigate this, I have to—/_

Anna’s snickers turned into loud shrieks of laughter, _/You have to ride a **drake**!/_

_/One that will be transformed into a horse. It’s the only way to keep my cover!/_

_/All bow before Castiel. The mighty rider of drakes!/_

Castiel opened up his left wing to flick her on the side of the head.

_/Ouch!/_

_/You deserve that./_

_/Fine. What drake will you be working with? Ishim is a jerk, Duma is full of herself, but Anael is nice and has good taste in a name./_

_/I’ve been given Gadreel./_

Anna tensed before looking at Castiel in horror, _/The first traitor? Castiel, how could they trust your life with him? Doesn’t your father care?/_

 _/The King,/_ Castiel corrected. _/Used his gifts to predict the best course for me. He predicted that Gadreel would be the best fit for the smoothest mission./_

_/And if he fails?/_

_/Then I have every right to kill him before he has the chance to jeopardize this mission./_

Anna growled, but Castiel didn’t have the time to entertain her any longer.

_/Anna, I have to go. If I dally any longer, I won’t be able to intercept the human cleric./_

Anna huffed, lying her head back down into the nest. _/Fine, don’t let me stand in your way or be a distraction./_

 _/You know you’ll always be my dear friend, Anna,/_ he gave her one last nuzzle. _/I’ll call for you once I have settled./_

_/I’ll be waiting./_

He hated leaving Anna so soon after she lost Uriel, but he had no choice and refused to give a backwards glance once he started moving. All he could do now was keep moving forward.

Castiel wasn’t expecting the King and his brothers to be outside of the cave, waiting for him along with Balthazar and a brown and white spotted drake that Castiel assumed was Gadreel. He did his best not to study the drake too closely, but his eyes couldn’t help but trace the long, ugly lacerations that littered the other’s body. The sight of the stumps where wings once rested made his own twitch in discomfort.

Ignoring the drake, Castiel bowed in greeting to his father. _/My Liege, what honor brings you down here today?/_

_/Is it so unusual to see my youngest child off on their mission?/_

It was, as the King had never done it before, not even on missions where he was sent off to war.

_/This is a crucial mission for everyone in our kingdom. You will also be using a mystic art that we have not used in quite a few millennia, so I thought it would be best to go over how you are to do it./_

Castiel wanted to point out that he remembered in great clarity how to shapeshift into another being, but it wasn’t his place to scoff at the King’s offer.

_/In order to take the shape of another living creature, you must first access their soul. Now this is a painful process, described as feeling like someone is peeling flesh from the bone, and your target will flail. That’s why it’s important that you paralyze them beforehand. Luckily I have provided Balthazar with some tranquilizer potion, so for the next couple of hours, his breath will act as a sedative./_

_/I suggest you don’t get too close,/_ Balthazar teased with a wink.

The amount of human mannerisms Balthazar had picked up in his lifetime was concerning. Then again, it was one of the reasons why he was chosen for this assignment. He knew how to blend in and he still had the form of the human he had acquired half a century ago.

_/If you don’t use Balthazar then you run the risk of your target moving too much and you accidentally exploding their soul. Not only will that decimate anything in the immediate vicinity, but you will no longer be able to acquire that form./_

_/I would be more concerned about being fried to a crisp,/_ Balthazar muttered. Luckily the King ignored his subordination.

_/Once you have touched the soul, you must focus on its unique properties and have your grace touch it and memorize it. Then your grace will be able to change you into that shape. But be warned, it will be excruciating to switch between forms, and you will feel an underlying tenderness for the first couple of days in between. The more frequently you shift, the more painful it will become, and the more you risk being permanently stuck in an amalgamated form. One that is neither dragon nor human. I advise you not to switch forms unless absolutely necessary./_

Castiel nodded in understanding, inwardly shuddering at the thought of ending up as an abomination. He had seen portraits and the remains of the poor souls who got trapped in between.

Like the one who had the limbs of a human but the body of the dragon; who was unable to support their weight on their human limbs, and crushed the bones when they tried to stand. Not only did they need a quadrilateral amputation, but they could never fly again. A dragon who kept her head, but had the body of a dog, and was unable to lift her head because it was too heavy for her neck to support. Poor thing ended up cervically dislocating herself.

The worst was when the external appearance was normal, but the internal organs were different. Such was the case for the dragon who had been stationed as a raven for undercover work and when he returned home, his organs were still raven size. His tiny heart was unable to supply enough blood and oxygen to the rest of the body, and he suffocated.

 _/Understood. And what about the drake?/_ Castiel asked.

_/The drake has a different method of transformation. He will be injected with a serum that will force his grace to keep him in the form of a horse for a year. During that time, he must prove himself worthy of your sovereignty, and if you deem him worthy then he can return to the form of a drake. If he fails, then I will personally make sure that he has the form and the lifespan of a field mouse./_

Castiel nodded his head in understanding, and stole a quick glance at the drake. He seemed to be staring hard at the ground, like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

 _/Then let’s get the first task out of the way,/_ the King announced.

With a click of the King’s tongue, Balthazar grabbed Gadreel by the scruff and yanked back to expose the skin of the drake’s neck. Castiel noticed that attached to the drake’s back was a syringe filled with a viscous liquid. The vial started to glow silver gold—just like the King’s eyes—as it slowly floated out of its perch, uncapped itself, and launched itself into the drake’s jugular. The drake’s body shuddered as the plunger of the syringe went down and flooded his systems with their potent magic.

The trembles grew worse, and when Balthazar released his scruff, the drake collapsed into a heap on the ground. In silence, they all watched the massive beast slowly shrink and contort itself until a horse was in its place.

Castiel was impressed that the pattern on the horse was very similar to what the dragon had looked like; a mostly white face and body with brown spotting, with a solid brown back and tail. Interestingly, this horse seemed to have furrier feet than the horses Castiel knew in his memory. They reminded him a bit of their feather plumage.

The horse carefully rose to its feet and shook its head. It looked annoyed about the whole situation.

 _/Gadreel,/_ the King commanded. _/Can you understand us in this form?/_

 _/...Yes, my Liege,/_ the horse responded, his voice perfectly clear, but he made no effort to bow or show respect to the King besides his title.

_/Then remember to perform your duty. You will serve my youngest in any way he needs or desires. Understood?/_

_/Understood./_

The King looked away from the former drake and turned back to Castiel. _/Now, I do believe you have an appointment to catch up with./_


	6. A Meeting with Jimmy

As a kit, Castiel used to hear legends about monsters lurking in the woods, ready to pounce on unsuspecting passersby. He never expected to be one of those shadowy figures. Yet here he was, hiding in plain sight while Balthazar kept them cloaked in his magic.

Any minute now, Jimmy Novak would be walking down this pathway. According to the King, he should be returning from his local training at the clinic where he used his magic to heal others, and was thus more vulnerable.

For a moment, Castielfelt bad for attacking a man who healed the sick and injured to the point of near exhaustion. Then he remembered that the people he saved were also the people who murdered his own in cold blood.

Resolve strengthened, he waited for the human to get closer. His body practically thrummed in excitement when it picked up the faint whistle sound of a human. Even with his eyes closed, he could predict how close the human was from them.

500 feet…. 200 feet… 40 feet…

_/Now!/_ Castiel commanded Balthazar, who immediately opened his mouth and let out a putrid stream of air towards the unsuspecting human.

The human gagged and tried to cover his nose and mouth from the smell, but soon learned that he couldn’t. All he could do was stare in open-eyed horror as he took in the beasts that were no longer invisible.

Two full-grown and able-bodied dragons were foreboding after all. Especially with their wings spread, and plumage puffed to make themselves look even bigger.

...Though the horse was not helping their image, seeing as how he was calmly grazing on grass between the two creatures of lore.

Castiel would need to give Gadreel a talk about ruining dramatics later.

Castiel sprinted towards the petrified human, not daring to fly with so much foliage in his way. He grabbed Jimmy by the shoulder with his left forepaw to steady his grip on the human, while he extended the claws on his right and channeled his grace through them. Once they were blazing blue, he quickly shoved them straight towards the center of the human’s chest. The human stared at him in horror, but was unable to even voice a scream.

Doing his best to ignore the human, Castiel let his grace shift through the soul, and copy down the information that it needed. Once he was satisfied that he got down every aspect that made this human Jimmy Novak, he ripped his claws out of the man.

Despite the crude entry, and the pain, not a single mark was left on the human.

Now for the tricky part.

As his grace slowly crawled back towards him, Castiel could feel the changes it was slowly making to his body. At first, he felt his body tingle with an unpleasant tickle, as if his limbs had fallen asleep, but then the pain gradually spread. No longer was it an annoyance but it was excruciating, like the magma of Mt. Eden had overtaken his body and was stripping his flesh from the bone, and then incinerating even that.

Just as Gadreel had done earlier, Castiel collapsed onto the ground in a heap, his body spasming as he was forced into a metamorphosis. He could feel his tail slowly being sucked up into a tiny stump and then nothing, while his long neck shrank to barely a foot in length. His ears flattened and rounded themselves, slowly relocating from the top of his head towards the sides. His scales and feathers vanished, only to be replaced by hideous and fragile looking skin. Soon the pain was so intolerable that he momentarily passed out, and when he came to he was in the shape of a human.

A very naked human.

“Bal—” Castiel had to cough, not used to using his vocals for anything but growls and kreens. “Balthazar, some clothes please.”

Balthazar snickered before tossing some clothes that he had stolen earlier. The tunic was three sizes too big and required a belt to even keep it on his frame, the trousers were a bit too snug around his thighs, but the shoes were a surprisingly good fit. To complete the look—especially since it was still the cold months for humans—Castiel was given a tan cloak to wear. It billowed around him as he walked and reminded him of his wings, especially when they were folded.

Castiel liked the cloak the best.

Adjusting the itchy fabrics of the pseudo-scales, Castiel turned towards the human whose face he now mirrored. The human gaped at him like a startled kit.

“What are you?” Jimmy asked in a voice that sounded at a higher frequency than Castiel’s own had.

Interestingly, they were supposed to be identical in every way. Something must have gone wrong in the transformation, and Castiel hoped that there were no other differences that differentiated him from the original, especially ones noticeable enough that he would attract unwanted attention.

Balthazar snickered again, _/‘What are you?’ What is he, daft? Isn’t he supposed to be some kind of dragon scholar?/_

“I should hope that you would be able to recognize two dragons when they appear in front of you,” Castiel replied coolly, ignoring Gadreel’s insulted whinny in the background.

Drakes transformed into horses didn’t count as dragons.

“What do you want?” Jimmy asked, while his eyes darted nervously around. Whether he was looking for an escape route or for a weapon, Castiel didn’t know.

Either option was foolish as the human was still immobilized.

“What I want from you is simple. I want to take your place.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened in horror, “I don’t know what your game is, but you leave Claire and Amelia out of—”

“I don’t have any interest in your wife or child,” Castiel said, narrowing his eyes. “What I’m interested in is the hunter that is on the way to your house.”

“My house?”

“Yes. It seems that a Pastor Jim and a Father Luca both highly recommended you to a hunter in search of a powerful cleric with deep knowledge of both the healing arts and dragon lore. He will arrive at your house by sundown and will ask for your help on a quest. Since you are a man who’s always dreamed of adventure, you would agree to it. However, I can’t have that.”

Castiel stalked closer towards Jimmy, letting his eyes glow their dragon blue. “What I need of you is to go far away. You take that wife and daughter of yours, and you leave town. Let no one know where you are going and tell no one of who you really are. For the next year, you are no longer Jimmy Novak. I don’t care who you reinvent yourself as, but I better hear no whispers about your existence. Understood?”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed. “You expect me to just give up our lives and—”

Whatever else Jimmy was going to say, was quickly cut off as Castiel reached out, grabbed the human by the throat, and held him up high enough that neither foot could touch the ground.

“Just because I don’t look like a dragon right now, doesn’t mean that I don’t still possess my strength. Don’t toy with me, mud monkey,” Castiel growled, throwing in his brother’s favorite insult for the humans. “Me letting you run with your miserable lives is a _mercy_. It would be much easier for me just to burn you to a crisp, so that nothing remains of you but ashes!”

Liquid started to stream down the human’s face, and Castiel could hear and feel how fast his heart was beating. Jimmy opened his mouth but only a choking gasp came out.

Disgusted, Castiel released his hold on the mud monkey and let it hit the ground. Apparently that was enough to break the paralyzing spell as the human was now able to curl into a ball.

“Please,” Jimmy sobbed. “Don’t hurt my family. Please, I promise, I’ll leave and won’t come back.”

“Good, because I’ll be watching you, and you’ll never know when one of my kind might be around.”

Castiel looked over his shoulder and nodded at Balthazar. The dragon disappeared from view, only to have his head—and only his head—reappear right in front of Jimmy’s face. The human screamed loudly, causing Balthazar to give a bigger, and intimidating toothy grin in return before vanishing from sight again.

“We can see you, but you can only see us when we want you to,” Castiel lied. Only Balthazar had the gift of invisibility, but no one else had to know about that.

“I promise I'll be good. No one will know the truth,” Jimmy swore.

“Then I suggest you run off. You have five hours—and not a second more—to pack up your things and leave.”

Jimmy nodded his head quickly, tripping over his feet in his mad dash to get up.

“Oh, and one more thing, Jimmy,” Castiel requested, gripping Jimmy tight by the shoulder to prevent him from running off right away.

“W-what is it?”

“Try not to make the place look ransacked. I do need to look like I live there.”

Jimmy frantically nodded again and this time Castiel did let him take off. Castiel waited until the man was no longer in sight before turning to Balthazar.

“Make sure that he and his family are out of the area. Spook their horses into running faster if you must. I don’t want any possibility of the hunter running into them.”

Come sundown, Castiel would finally come face to face with Winchester.


	7. Face To Face With A Monster

Despite living longer than most human civilizations, Castiel discovered that waiting six hours for one’s mortal enemy to arrive was tedious. With Balthazar herding the human family away, and Gadreel blatantly ignoring him in favor of exploring the abandoned stable, Castiel was left with nothing to do to ease his own boredom.

He had already been through the house and given it a quick cleaning, polished the silverware, alphabetized their books. As it grew closer to sundown, he made a pot of tea for himself, since it was supposedly relaxing, and was about to sit down with a warm cup of tea and a book about apiaries when he heard a knock on the door.

This was it.

When Castiel opened the door he was expecting to see a hideous human; an older man with knotted hair, a mean face that was littered with scars and set with a permanent scowl, and proudly wore the pelts of his brethren as his clothes. What he got instead was a soaking wet human, one who barely counted as a man, and a black mare.

The man had kind but sad green eyes that were flecked with gold, and freckles that dotted his pale face. He gave Castiel an apologetic smile before gesturing at his horse. “I usually don’t bring my horse up towards the door, but we got caught in the downpour. I was hoping that I could temporarily seek shelter for the both of us? At least until the rain has settled? I can just stay in the stables with Baby.”

Castiel nodded dumbly, unsure of how to answer.

This had not been part of his father’s vision. He didn’t warn Castiel that another human might stop in for the night.

No matter his current disdain for humans, he couldn’t rightfully turn a young one out in the pouring rain. Especially not a human that was clearly loved by his horse. She pressed protectively against her human, doing her best to offer some warmth to his shivering form. She even had her head leaned down so that it was resting on his shoulder, and he absentmindedly stroked her nose while he tried to figure out lodging.

“I… I have a stable in the back. Though my horse is meandering through the stable as we speak, I hope your… Baby is alright with other horses.”

“Don’t worry, she’s one of the best behaved horses you’ve ever seen,” the human promised, before giving a quick kiss to the horse’s snout.

The horse turned around and licked the young man’s hair in retaliation, making him laugh. There was no mistaking the bond and affection the two held for each other.

“Let me just fetch an umbrella and I will lead you around back,” Castiel promised, as he carefully closed the door on the man and horse, before dashing off to find an umbrella.

Luckily, the Novaks had been in too much of a hurry and forgot to take theirs. Castiel’s skin still ached from his transformation and he didn’t want to irritate it further by having it pelted by the cold rain. He grabbed an additional one for the weary traveler, who looked surprised when Castiel offered it to him.

“Thanks, man, but you didn’t have to worry about it,” the young man laughed, gesturing at his flooded appearance. “I’m already a drowned rat.”

“You don’t look or smell anything like a rodent,” Castiel explained seriously, and the man chuckled again. “Also, at least it will prevent you from getting wetter and catching a chill.”

If Castiel’s different zoology medical studies were correct, human body temperature needed to be between the range of 97°F to 99°F, and they would get sick if their body became too cold or too hot. His people might be encroaching on war with the humans, but he still took his oath as a multi-species healer seriously.

The human smiled gently at Castiel as he took the offered umbrella, “Thanks. Have to say, it’s been a tough couple of weeks on the road. It’s really nice to see a Good Samaritan, willing to help a fellow out.”

“I simply provided you with something that I had around. It’s not like I can use both of them at once.”

Castiel watched curiously, as the human not only opened the umbrella for himself, but held it high over his head for the horse beside him. The horse eyed the umbrella curiously as well, and reached up to try to chew on the fabric before the human yanked it out of reach.

“Oh come on, Baby. I try to be nice to you, and you immediately try to ruin it for the both of us. And in front of our host too! You have more class than that.” The human chided his mare, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his tone or from the corners of his lips.

There was something very fascinating about this human, but at the word _host_ , Castiel remembered that he should be getting the pair out of the rain.

“If you don’t mind, please follow me,” Castiel said, stepping outside the safety of the dry house in order to head to the back where Jimmy’s horses had been kept.

“You heard him, Baby. ...Hey, and don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing his coat! Keep your mouth to yourself,” the human reprimanded.

Castiel realized that he had turned his back on two strange creatures he had no familiarity with. Very disconcerting that Castiel’s warrior training would fail so soon. What if Winchester showed up? He was due to show up soon. Though admittedly, with the unexpected weather change and with him fretting around the house all day, Castiel was a little confused as to when sundown would approach.

However, there was no way he could start walking beside or behind the human and horse without seeming odd, so he continued onwards towards the stables. It also didn’t take him long to find Gadreel, especially once Castiel turned on the gas lantern in the stable, as the transformed drake was lazily strolling through the corridors. He looked startled at the additional company Castiel had with him and gave a surprised whinny.

“Wow, aren’t you a big boy,” the human commented as he led his Baby further inside. “Is he horse friendly?”

“I’m… not sure. I only recently acquired him,” Castiel admitted, though he shot Gadreel a warning glance not to attack either companion.

Gadreel gave him a look of indifference, moved over to the nearest pile of hay, and started to eat.

“Hey, you might not want to let him run around loose like that,” the human said, his green eyes watching the drake-horse with worry.

“Why is that?”

“Horses don’t really know when to stop. They eat themselves to death if you let them have free range to all of this food. That’s why it’s important to keep them in a stall when they aren’t supervised.”

Gadreel gave an insulted whinny, _/You are not putting me in a stall like some sort of beast./_

“You already are one,” Castiel mumbled under his breath, before turning back to his human guest. “That is a good point. I’ll let you put your mare away and I’ll deal with… mine.”

Castiel barely got within two feet of Gadreel before he lunged and tried to bite him. Luckily for Gadreel, the human had been behind Castiel and yanked him out of harm’s way in time.

“Whoa there, you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting _my horse_ ,” Castiel glared at Gadreel and Gadreel glared back, “to try and bite me like that.”

_/I promise you, I’ll be quicker about it if you try again./_

“I’d like to see you try,” Castiel growled under his breath.

Gadreel neighed angrily, before rearing up on his hindlegs. It was in that moment that Castiel realized three things; the first being that Gadreel was much bigger than the typical horse, especially when fully stretched out, the second being that Castiel was much shorter in this form, and the third and most important thing was Gadreel was a dangerous criminal that had committed acts so horrible that he had been mutilated for them.

As he was processing those three truths, the human pushed Castiel behind him and approached the beast.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, boy. Easy.” He spoke calmingly, gesturing both his open palms at Gadreel. “Nobody’s here to hurt you.”

Gadreel seemed so stunned by the human’s dumb act of heroics that he stopped rearing and went back to all four limbs on the ground. He stared at the human suspiciously, while Castiel looked on with concern.

“I don’t think you should go any closer,” Castiel tried to warn the foolish lad, but the human continued to move forward.

“That’s it. Not trying to hurt you. Know that’s hard to believe. Looks like you’ve been through a lot, huh, boy?”

Castiel wasn’t sure what the human was referring to at first, until he noticed that all of the scars that had littered Gadreel’s scaly hide had followed him onto his softer form.

“Yeah, those don’t look pleasant. Someone really didn’t like you, huh? Probably saw the power behind your size and thought that they could use you, huh? Worked you until you were exhausted, and then beat you until you were bloody.”

Gadreel snorted in surprise, but his ears were perked up in curiosity.

“Humans can be bastards, huh? Some of them are no better than monsters,” the human admitted with a sigh.

Castiel had never heard of a human berating their own kind before, let alone admit that some of their actions were downright malicious. Castiel thought about the human that killed his brother and wished the rest of his kind extinct. Maybe that human was a monster as well. Maybe there were still good humans amongst this world.

“But I’m not like them. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to check on you and make sure that you’re doing alright. Is it okay if I get closer to you?”

To Castiel’s shock, Gadreel did let the human approach, though he neighed nervously when the man ran a hand over his torso.

“Shit, they didn’t just beat you. They carved you up like you were a turkey dinner.” He tsked his tongue in disgust, before slowly moving around to inspect the scars. When he reached a particularly nasty section on Gadreel’s back, he cursed louder. “Son of a bitch. Those are dragon claw marks and a bit of dragon burn. Those fucking barbarians.”

The human turned to Castiel, anger and disgust clear on his face. “Do you know who his previous owners were?”

“No,” Castiel answered truthfully. He didn’t know what family Gadreel had served before his father had recruited him.

“Well, whoever they are, they deserve to rot in fucking jail. Not only did they abuse your horse, but they used him as a bait horse.”

“A what?” Castiel was genuinely confused.

“A bait horse. Some fucked-up hunter wannabes like to take some horse up into dragon territories and coat poison on their backs. That way when a dragon comes down and tries to snack on the horse, they end up getting sick and the hunter can take them down easily.”

Castiel curled his lip in disgust, and he knew that if he had his tail then it would be smacking the ground angrily. “That’s abhorrent.”

“Tell me about it. Heck, even if a dragon doesn’t want a snack or something to toy with, the toxin on their back usually makes the horses sick anyway.” The human shook his head again, but gently stroked Gadreel’s back. “It’s okay, Bud. No one will hurt you like that ever again. You’re safe now.”

The human turned to look at Castiel, for the first time with some hesitancy and distrust in his eyes. “Right?”

Castiel didn’t know why, but he disliked that look on the human’s face. “Of course. I won’t harm him. Actually, I’m a healer. I can help with some of the worst of the lacerations.”

Castiel had no idea what kind of hold this human had over him, but for some reason he found his bipedal legs moving him towards Gadreel, and him calling out his grace to heal Gadreel. In some way healing his scars was easier, since it was cosmetic damage, compared to the life or death situations he was used to—and he tried desperately not to remember that night, or how his paws were drenched in both red and blue blood as his brother bled out in his arms—but also difficult in another. Since scar tissue is fibrous, that meant that he would have to break down the collagen and reheal the wound so that the scarring wouldn’t be as bad, and wouldn’t pull on the muscles as badly either.

Gadreel looked and snorted at Castiel in shock, _/Why… why did you bother to heal me?/_

“It’s true,” the human whispered in disbelief.

“What’s true?” Castiel asked, turning towards the man.

“I heard about you guys but I thought it was just legends or exaggerations. I mean… I know I shouldn’t have, considering wizards and witches are real,” the man babbled.

Castiel tilted his head in confusion, though also felt a growing sense of unease. “What did you think was a legend?”

“That clerics were real and that you could heal without needing a blood sacrifice or something dark. Actually, I’ve been looking for you in particular for a while. You’re Jimmy Novak, right?”

Castiel paused and studied the human more carefully. “Who are you?”

“My name is Dean Winchester, and I need your help.”


	8. Dean Winchester

There had to be a mistake.

“Are you perhaps named after your father?” Castiel probed. The young Dean Winchester shook his head.

“An uncle maybe?” Another head shake.

“Your grandfather?” This time Dean shot him a really confused look.

“Technically I’m named after my grandma, Deanna Campbell. Why?”

“I’ve… heard rumors of the great dragon hunter Dean Winchester,” Castiel responded, and Dean’s chest puffed up with pride. “I was expecting a man, not a child.”

“Hey!” Dean sputtered, insulted. “I’m twenty-five, not some punk kid.”

Dear heavens, he was only at his first quarter-century of life? If he was a dragon, he’d still be a fletchling!

Castiel watched the man closely, trying to figure out how someone so young and gentle with the horses could be the same person who ruthlessly murdered his brother. Even now, the man was carefully looking over Gadreel for other injuries that could cause him problems, and giving a gentle scratch behind the ear that had the drake-horse leaning into the man.

“My apologies. I just… you are nothing like I thought you would be.”

Dean gave him a smirk and a wink. “I’ll just take that to mean that I am even more impressive up close than you expected.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but then ruminated on what the human had said before. “Campbell. As in the legendary Campbells? The dragon hunters? Creators of the Campbell’s dragon soup?”

“Yeah, that’s the family. Kinda the family business, you can say,” Dean said with a shrug.

Castiel clenched his fist so tight that he was pretty sure he broke skin with his dull human nails. A legacy of bloodshed, as his father predicted. “Is it true that the soup is made from real dragons?”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “No, though I know of some humans that are dumb enough to try it. Though they usually end up being barbecued before they have a chance of making it back home. The real recipe uses dragon eggshell. All sorts of protein and nutrients in it. Good for restoring magic as well. And luckily, dragons don’t give a shit about their eggshells so you can get your hands on them a little easier. You know, during breeding season and all.”

Castiel was impressed. It was true that dragons abandoned their eggshells, as the breeding grounds rotated annually, and after protecting their egg for over a year, the dragon parents were so grateful to be done with their task that they quickly flew away with their hatchling, leaving behind everything else.

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Castiel commented. “Though what do you need of me?”

Before Dean could answer, Baby the horse let out a loud sneeze, and Dean frowned in concern. “Actually, can I have some dry towels or blankets first? And maybe a brush and a pick? Baby was out in that rain longer than I liked, and I lost some of our supplies on our journey here.”

Holding back a sigh of frustration, Castiel followed Jimmy’s memories over to the supply closet where the Novaks kept their horse equipment. He quickly grabbed a stack of blankets, and the other things Dean had requested.

“Thank you.” Dean gave him a gentle smile as he grabbed one of the blankets and shook it out before going back towards Baby.

Looking at the mare in better lighting, he noticed that there was something missing. “Should your horse have a saddle?”

“Yeah, well we got robbed on our way here and lost some things.”

“Who steals a saddle?”

“Hey, it was made out of some great quality leather! And it was more of what else came with the saddle. It had all sorts of protective charms carved into it, and I had two bags attached to the sides that contained some of my more specialized weapons. Now I’m stuck with just the basics.”

Castiel realized that he never checked if the man had weapons. “What do you have on you?”

Dean chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jimmy. I can call you Jimmy, right? I wouldn’t dream of using any weapon on a human.”

Good thing that Dean was unaware of what he actually was.

“Still, I’d feel better knowing what you do have on you.”

As well as catalogue where Dean liked to keep said weapons.

Sighing, Dean placed the blanket over Baby’s back and shrugged out of the olive green cloak he was wearing. From there, Castiel could make out the bow he kept strapped across his back.

He wondered if it was this bow that delivered the killing blow to his brother, but then remembered that Balthazar said it was a bolt, not an arrow. The murder weapon was a crossbow.

“The bow is more decoration right now, since my arrows were all in my bag with the other stuff. Though I could probably get one good whack in with it if I needed to.” Dean then pulled up his shirt to reveal the scabbard that was partially covered. “Iron sword, and,” he pulled up his left pant leg to reveal a knife strapped there, “a silver knife. I at least have the basics with me.”

Castiel nodded, eyeing the iron sword suspiciously. Iron could kill dragons, but not in the way humans believed. Most were convinced that just touching the object would sear their flesh, like lesser beasts, but it was actually the reaction of having the iron introduced into their grace that could kill them. The exact cause of death was better known as iron poisoning, which was something even a human could get, though usually it was reserved for swallowing something with iron.

Best to stay as far away from iron as possible, just to be safe.

“How does a great hunter get robbed?”

Dean blushed and readjusted his clothes. “I got distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“Look,” Dean complained, returning his attention to Baby and carefully drying her out. “I was in town and I ran into this beautiful dame and she wanted a night of fun. Next thing I know, she slipped something in my drink, and then I’m waking up the next morning with a bunch of my shit missing. Probably being sold at one of the Dark Markets as we speak.”

“Dark Market?”

Dean paused blotting Baby to eye Castiel curiously, “Yeah you don’t look like the type to know about that. The Dark Market is a place that sells all sorts of cool and illegal magical paraphernalia. You can find anything there, from unicorn horn to cursed objects, and all sorts of magical weapons. Oh, and very illegal ‘exotic’ pets.”

“Oh.” He wondered if the King was aware of this Dark Market. “Would you be able to go and ask for your things back? Since they are yours?”

Dean laughed. “You really don’t know how the Dark Market works. They’d sooner gut me like a fish than let me take back an item from their wares. Even if it is mine.”

Castiel put this as another item on his list for why humans were barbaric creatures. The list was getting very long, but he was baffled by the fact that Dean didn’t fit as well into the category as he thought.

Especially when Dean was gently drying off his horse, snickering whenever Baby reached around to chew on his hair before carefully slapping her away. He looked like a young man with a compassionate heart.

A very soaked man. If Castiel remembered correctly, humans shouldn’t stay in drenched clothes, especially when it hadn’t reached the spring solstice. It was an easy way for him to get sick.

“Were your clothes stolen too?”

“A good chunk of them. The only things I had left were the dirty clothes I had set aside for laundry. But without my duffle… Well, they’re not going to be much better than what I have on now.”

Castiel nodded, “I’ll go fetch you some clothes in the meantime. Do me a favor and try not to set my stable on fire.”

Dean chuckled, “Will do. I also promise not to steal anything.”

“If you do, take the horse. He seems to like you more than me anyway.”

Gadreel simply neighed, though Castiel wasn’t sure if it was because he was insulted, or if he agreed with Castiel’s assessment.

“No take backs!” Dean called out once Castiel’s back was turned. Castiel didn’t know what he meant by that, but didn’t feel like turning around and asking him.

It wasn’t until Castiel returned to the stable with dry clothes and more blankets that Castiel tried to press him again for answers. Instead of being direct, Dean shifted uncomfortably in his borrowed clothes.

“First, does your family know that I’m staying in your stable?”

“Family? No. My… wife,” Castiel tripped over the foreign word. It felt wrong on his tongue, compared to saying “mate.” But for some reason, humans didn’t use that terminology. “My wife and daughter left town earlier to visit her mother. It’s why our other horses and carriage are gone.”

“Huh? Why didn’t you go with them?”

Castiel was tempted to lie and say that he had duties here, but it would be peculiar if he was willing to abandon said duties when a stranger asked him to. Instead, he thought of something he heard of before. “It was a ‘girls only’ trip, and I did not want to interrupt.”

“Don’t blame you for that, man.” Dean smirked, but it didn’t come as easily as the others had. This smirk was more of an upward mouth spasm, and his green eyes looked a little duller. “Though what I’m going to ask might make things harder for them.”

Castiel doubted it, considering they were still trying to get their wagon as far north as they could go.

“What is it?”

“How much do you know about the Colt?”

“Cults as in C-U-L-T is typically a group of zealots who are gathered together for devotion over a particular idol, while a C-O-L-T is a male, juvenile horse. ...Why are you banging your head like that?”

Dean, in question, was gently whacking his head against Baby’s shoulder. “I didn’t need a vocabulary lecture, thanks. I want to know what you know about _the_ Colt. As in the legendary wand crafted by Samuel Colt over two hundred years ago?”

“Only that it is a legend. But if it is real, it could make a dangerous weapon.”

“That’s the thing, Jimmy, it _is_ real. I know it is.” Dean turned to Castiel, his eyes glowing brightly despite the dim lighting of the stable. It made Castiel wonder if the man had any bit of dragon in him, to have burning eyes like that. “Ol’ Samuel Colt hid it away once he realized he was getting to the end of his life, and he made sure to make it difficult to get to. He scattered five keys across the corners of the county, which already sucks ass since that’s over three _million_ square miles to deal with, but then you also have to deal with finding the keys in a specific order sequence as well. You need key one to find key two, you need keys one and two to find key three, and so on.”

“That does sound rather tedious.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. It’s going to be a friggin’ long journey, but it will be worth it. I’m pretty sure I know where the first and the last keys are, and I think with each key we find, the more clues we get to figure out where the next key is.”

“We?”

Dean shifted nervously, smoothing down the fur on the side of Baby’s neck. “Yeah, see. This thing is going to be long and rough, and there’s going to be a lot of times where I will be in the wilderness thousands of miles away from civilization. Add in all the monsters I’m going to come across along the way, and I know I’m not making it out without some assistance. Mainly a healer, because I can fight the monsters off no problem, I’m just going to need someone around to patch me up.”

“Why did you seek me out specifically?” Castiel asked, genuinely curious why someone like Dean was drawn to someone as mundane as Jimmy Novak.

“I heard you were one of the best healers around. That and you know a lot about dragons, which I’m going to need.”

“Why do you need a healer who is skilled in the knowledge of dragons?” Castiel technically knew already, but he needed to hear it straight from Dean.

“Because what I’m after is something the dragons are and should be afraid of. It’s something that can kill them instantly. Any offensive spell that is cast with that wand will immediately kill its target, no matter how strong and armored.”

“I don’t understand, there are already dragon hunters. You already know how to kill a dragon.”

Castiel tried not to think about Uriel, or how his white scales were slowly dyed red, and blue, and then purple. Or how his breathing hitched as he struggled to get in even the smallest breath.

He tried not to think about it, but he still did.

“Killing a dragon takes a lot of skill, and a fuckton of luck. There’s really only one spot you can hit on those giants that will kill them. That and… it’s not really any dragon I want to take down. I want to take down the biggest baddie there is. Their King.”

Castiel felt a shiver run down his spine and he resisted the urge to strike out and incapacitate the human for even daring to speak about assassinating their King. Dragons had been turned into drakes for less! But he had to remember his mission.

“Isn’t that overly ambitious for someone of your age?”

Dean prickled at the comment, and if he was a dragon he probably would be all puffed out in anger. “I’m the one who found Colt’s journal and decoded the passages. I’m the one who is worthy of the Colt and it’s my duty to use it. I’m not letting anyone else risk their life for this and I have a lot to lose if this doesn’t pan out.”

“Like what?”

Castiel couldn’t understand what would drive a man as young as him on such a vendetta.

“Let’s just say I need to finish this quest before next May.”

“Then what is your plan? Obviously you need me for support, but what exactly are our next steps?”

Dean looked a little surprised that Castiel was taking this in so easily. “The first place we need to go is a little over 800 miles west. It will take between three and four weeks to get there, depending on how the horses hold up and how many nasties we run into on the road.”

Castiel balked at how long that would take. His people could fly 80 miles per hour for literal days with little break, and such a distance would take only ten hours for him to accomplish, not nearly a month.

“I see now why you are estimating that this journey might take over a year’s time.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I did the math and if everything runs smoothly then we can get this done in 200 days. But let’s face it, nothing in life ever goes the way it’s supposed to. Especially when it comes to me.”

Castiel couldn’t help but agree, especially when this human didn’t compare to the one his mind had fabricated.

“Alright, I’m in. When do we leave?”

“Hold up.” Dean’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’ll agree to it just like that? You know you won’t be able to see your family for almost a year.”

“Yes, you had explained that already. They will understand my decision, especially if this is as important of a quest as you make it seem.”

“Yeah, trust me, it is.” Dean’s eyes hardened. “It’s about time those monsters got what’s coming to them.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Though he couldn’t help but wonder, was Dean a monster in this category? Or was he someone Castiel could save?


	9. Breakfast Plans

Castiel watched the human and his horse slumber in the stall he had provided them. He didn’t think Dean had been serious when he had first offered to sleep in the stall alongside his mare, but even when Castiel had offered him a room, Dean had declined. Instead he gathered what blankets he could find and curled up into a corner of the stall, while Baby kept faithful watch over him.

He was a strange human.

With a shake of his head, Castiel turned away from the man and headed back outside. He debated about crawling into Jimmy’s bed, knowing that tonight would be the only night he could enjoy that luxury, but ultimately he decided to check in with Anna first.

The frequency was weaker in this form, as so much of his grace was siphoned off to keep up Jimmy’s attributes, but Anna had thought of a way to circumnavigate that and had offered him one of her scales. As long as he had her scale on him and focused, he should be able to reach her.

At least in theory.

“Please work,” he prayed to the red scale in his hand. A scale that usually was minuscule, but now fit into his palms.

Castiel was not one to pray in desperation, but he was confused and needed some guidance.

_/Castiel? Is that you? Is everything all right?/_ A deep voice echoed in his head. It seemed that dragon-speak in this form was louder, and more grating.

“Yes. Can you hear me, Anna?”

_/Yes, but your voice is so low. It sounds like you are whispering./_

Castiel laughed weakly, “To me, it sounds like you are screaming, but I will take this over nothing.”

_/Castiel? What happened? You sound shaken./_

“I… I met him, Anna.”

_/Yes? That was part of your mission./_

“I know, I just… He’s not what I was expecting.”

_/Even worse than you thought? Just remember, you’re the one who gets the honor of killing him at the end of this. You just need to hold out for a year./_

“That’s the problem, Anna. He’s… Anna, he’s practically a fletchling!”

_/What?/_

“He’s only twenty-five sun revolutions. His face is so youthful and passionate. There’s even this gentleness about him, especially around the horses. He cares for the beasts like they are beloved creatures, not tools.”

_/Careful, Cassie,/_ Anna snarled. _/you sound like you are growing fond of him./_

Castiel wrinkled his tiny, human nose. “Of course not. I just… I don’t know what to make of him.”

_/He’s your brother’s killer. That’s all you need to know./_

Castiel flinched, reminded again that to see Dean in any other light was a betrayal to his own littermate. Yet…

“Anna, he’s so young.”

_/You heard what the King said. He was never a child; he was raised to be a killer of our kind,/_ Anna scoffed. _/Do you really think he would show you any mercy if he actually knew what you were?/_

Castiel closed his eyes. “I’m sure he’d have no issue slaying me.”

_/Exactly. Don’t fall for the humans’ tricks. That’s one of their abilities. They have a habit of charming other species and enslaving them. They use them until they can no longer serve a purpose to their greed and then they slaughter them for their meat and pelts./_

Castiel gripped Anna’s scale tighter. “I’m not enthralled by the human, nor am I dumb enough to become his pet. I… I’m a healer, Anna. Fighting monsters and hardened criminals is one thing. Killing someone so young… how do I know I’m not in the wrong?”

_/The King told you who was at fault. You are not just talking about a common thief or naysayer. That boy is a killer and if you don’t stop him when you have the chance then he will kill us all./_

Castiel still remembered the way Dean vowed to kill their King. It wasn’t just his confidence in the fact that he could pull off such a feat, but the way his eyes were so cold when he said it.

The eyes of a killer.

“You’re right,” Castiel admitted. “He’s dangerous.”

_/Very. Which is why you have to be careful. You have to walk the thin line between making him trust you, and not trusting him./_

“I know.”

_/Just… just promise me you’ll stay safe? I know I sound angry but… I’m terrified. I’m so terrified of losing you to him too./_

“I promise you, Anna. I won’t let him take me away from you.”

_/Good. Now you should go get your sleep. Don’t want to risk the human waking up while you are still in the deepest parts of slumber. Even if he suspects nothing now, you don’t want to give him reason to grow suspicious./_

“Yes, Anna,” he dutifully replied, as he stretched his aching shoulders. “I could use the rest. My body does not appreciate being crammed into such a tiny space. I’ll try to call again tomorrow.”

_/I look forward to it./_

Losing connection with Anna felt like being splashed with ice water; shocking and unpleasant. It was also lonely. Castiel wished he could contact Balthazar, but knew that the dragon was busy keeping an eye on the Novak family.

Having nothing better to do, Castiel retired to Jimmy’s bed. It wasn’t his nest, but it would do for now, and the extra blanket layers reminded him of being wrapped in multiple feathers. A lot like being in a cuddle pile, and it made him a little less homesick.

When Castiel woke up, it was to the streaming sunlight in his eyes and the delicious smell of cooked meat wafting through the house. Confused, he staggered downstairs and saw Dean in front of the fireplace. The green-eyed youth looked up at Castiel and smiled, and Castiel noticed he had some dirt smudged across his nose.

“Morning, sleepy head. For a minute there, I didn’t think you would wake up.”

“You found food?” Castiel asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I checked through your food storage and noticed you had some sausages and eggs. Figured they’d go bad before your family returned, and we should eat as much as we could before it goes rancid.”

“How kind of you,” Castiel said flatly, but was unprepared when Dean offered the first plate of cooked food to him.

“Go on and eat up. Can’t promise we’ll be eating good like this on the road so better enjoy it while you can.”

“What will we have on the road?”

“Always good to pack the essentials; a water canteen, bread, cheese, and jerky. Oh and I should probably pick up a new fishing line so that I can catch us some fish,” Dean said before picking up a piece of sausage with his bare hands and taking a giant bite. “We’ll have to restock each time we get into a new town, and might need to run some errands in exchange for goods.”

Castiel nodded his head slowly, thinking once again how tedious this journey was going to be. “So we survive on the land and on our supplies for as long as we can, and then depend on others for when we are running low?”

“Life of adventure is not as glorious as writers make you believe, huh,” Dean teased, but when he put down his sausage, his face turned serious. “I’m not going to lie, being on the road for this long is going to fucking suck. We’re going to go hungry, never get a good night’s rest unless we book ourselves an inn, it will always be too hot or too cold, and we’re going to stink so bad our nose hairs are going to burn off.”

“That last one sounds a bit over dramatic.”

“Maybe, but it’s still going to be gross,” Dean sighed. “Look, I’ve heard you’re a nice guy, and I can see that you come from a great and loving home. I don’t want to steal you away from this without you knowing all the dirty details. I need you to know exactly what it is you’re giving up, and I can’t make any promises that you’ll make it back to your family when this is all over. Or that your family won’t be targeted as a way to harm you.”

The real Jimmy Novak would have paused, reconsidered his previous answer, and agreed that this wasn’t his best option. As much as Jimmy longed for adventure, he loved his family above all else, and would never put them in a situation where they might be in danger. Or where he could never return to them.

But Castiel wasn’t Jimmy.

Castiel bit his lip and pretended to weigh the risks, before slowly nodding, “I understand, but I know this is something I have to do. Why else would you have sought me out above everyone else?”

Dean looked down, refusing to answer.

“You said it yourself that this quest was to get rid of dangerous monsters. I can’t just be idle when there are beasts out there who can slaughter my family without any remorse. I made a vow to keep my family safe no matter what, and I have every intention of doing so.”

“You’ll be painting giant targets on their backs!” Dean argued.

“I have connections and ways to keep my family safe. Move them into a safe house if I must. I have no intentions of being a coward who hides while the people I care about are in danger.”

Dean nodded, looking a mixture between satisfied and guilty that Jimmy was determined to follow through on this mad journey, “If you’re sure then we should pack up after breakfast, check on the horses, and then stock up in town before hitting the road. We got a long journey and the horses can only safely travel fifty miles in a day before we have to rest for the night. Luckily, I already looked at the map and we can set up camp near Pike Creek.”

Castiel nodded in understanding, but still wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I suppose that means we’ll be eating fish tonight?”

“You bet’cha. Hope you like seafood, because we’ll be eating a lot of it.”

Castiel had actually never eaten fish before, as his kind tried to avoid deep bodies of water, especially since it was Leviathan territory. But they looked slimey and unappealing.

“Does it count as seafood if you caught the fish in a creek?”

Dean paused to think before making a face. “It’s too early in the morning for me to question that. We’ll just say it counts for reasons.”

“Reasons?” Castiel mocked.

“You know, I didn’t have to be nice and make you breakfast,” Dean complained, fake reaching for Castiel’s plate, which was still untouched.

“Yes you did, you stole from my food stores,” Castiel pointed out, pulling the plate out of Dean’s reach.

“Yeah well, you aren’t even eating it.”

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to give me food poisoning, and wanted to see how you fared after eating your serving,” Castiel teased, much to his own surprise.

“You know just for that—” Dean got out of his seat and once again tried to grab Castiel’s plate, only for Castiel to turn around and quickly shovel most of the food in his mouth.

It was juvenile, especially for someone of Castiel’s age and station, but he couldn’t help doing it, or fight off the laugh that was building up inside of him.

There was something about Dean that made Castiel feel like he was the fletchling, and that was dangerous.

But, at that moment, he didn’t care, especially when Dean was smiling at him like that.


	10. What Makes A Monster

“You’re a monster,” Dean hissed, staring at Castiel in a mixture of horror and disgust.

“Dean, let me explain,” Castiel said slowly, raising his hands to show the human that he meant no harm. “I didn’t realize—”

“Didn’t realize what? That you’d be hurting him? That I wouldn’t figure out that you _lied_ to me.”

“I think you’re being a little over dramatic,” Castiel complained, rolling his eyes.

“Me being over dramatic? Tell that to Zeke!” Dean yelled, angrily gesturing at Gadreel, who chose that moment to lift up his front limb and whinny pathetically.

It turned out that Gadreel did understand a thing or two about dramatics.

“I still can’t believe you named my horse for me,” Castiel grumbled over Gadreel’s new nickname. He hadn’t wanted to call him Gadreel since it was a dragon name, and wasn’t sure how much the hunter was aware of dragon culture.

“That’s your own fault for not giving him a name in the first place. Another item to put on your list of crimes.”

“I told you I only recently came into possession of ‘Zeke.’ How was I supposed to know he needed horseshoes?”

“I told you to check over your horse before we left! You have no excuses.” Despite his ire at Castiel, Dean was still being gentle towards Gadreel, even going as far as to stroke the mighty beast’s muzzle.

Castiel never saw a smug looking horse before, neither had Jimmy, but Castiel was pretty sure that Gadreel was the very definition of one.

“You’re right,” Castiel admitted, hanging his head in what he hoped looked like shame. “I just wanted to get onto the road as quickly as possible and didn’t bother to do a full check.”

Castiel refrained to mention how the impish drake had tried to take a bite out of him while he was still in the stall, so Castiel had quickly shoved the bit part of the bridle in Gadreel’s mouth and tightened the straps so the drake couldn’t do that again. Afterwards he just put on a saddle, and waited for Dean to get done with his mare.

“You know what you have to do now, right? You need to properly check Zeke over, and you _will_ heal up any of the injuries he got from carrying your fatass all of these miles.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but reluctantly went over towards Dean and Gadreel. “I still don’t understand what the issue is. It’s not like wild horses have metal shoes.”

“Wild horses don’t come as big as Zeke does,” Dean said, gesturing from Gadreel to his own mare, who was a foot shorter than the stallion. “He’s what we call a Clydesdale and he was purposely bred to be big and carry large weight.”

“Aha—”

“But since they are work horses they need horseshoes. It helps protect their feet, and it helps them gain better traction. Considering we’re going to be hitting some snowy areas, you’re going to want good traction, or else you are going to end up with a two ton horse on top of ya.”

Gadreel shot Castiel a look that made it clear he was tempted to do that anyway.

Castiel glared in turn, wondering if the drake remembered that he needed Castiel’s blessing to return to his true form.

And not be executed.

Castiel was about to complain that one day’s journey could not do that much damage, but then he lifted one of Gadreel’s hooves and saw that what should have been a dark brown was discolored white.

“That,” Dean said, gently tracing the pale layer, “is signs of solar bruising. See the main thing a horseshoe does is make sure that the sole of the foot doesn’t touch the ground. See, horse’s soles have some pretty delicate blood vessels, which can lead to bruising and blisters. Both can cause lameness, and out in the wild a lame horse is a dead horse.”

Dean turned and looked Castiel right in the eye. “And a dead human. Especially if a monster is out there. We got lucky so far to not come across any, but we won’t always have that luxury. And sometimes they hunt in packs and outnumber us, so our best chance of survival is making sure that we can get away fast.”

“Something I can’t do if I don’t have a reliable steed,” Castiel nodded in understanding.

How pathetic was it that he had to rely on another creature to get out of harm’s way. Even more pathetic was the fact that he would have to flee, when there were seldom creatures that could stand against him.

As much as he wished he could put Gadreel in his place, he knew that he couldn’t let his “steed” suffer, and was forced to draw upon his healing power to fix Gadreel. Again.

“You should be grateful,” Castiel hissed, low enough that Dean couldn’t hear, but the way Gadreel’s ears folded back told him that the horse heard his message.

“There. Hopefully you don’t drain yourself trying to fix Zeke up in between travel breaks, because you’re going to need to do that. Luckily for you, there is a small town a good half a day’s journey away, and there should be a blacksmith there that can fit us up. You’re also lucky that we don’t need a farrier.”

A farrier, Jimmy’s memories provided, was someone that took care of horse’s hooves and nailed horseshoes on. It was a delicate task that required a lot of skill.

“We don’t need one?”

“Yeah, my Uncle Bobby was a farrier.” Dean looked as if he attempted to smile, but all that came out was a grimace. “Taught me how to do it, and I’ve been doing Baby’s shoes since she first needed them.”

Baby, hearing her name, whirled her giant head around and gently nudged Dean in the stomach. This time the smile that appeared on his face was genuine.

“Okay, girl, you’re right. You worked hard and you deserve a treat.” Dean moved around her to reach the new saddle and pack to grab an apple. He offered the treat to his beloved mare, who quickly gobbled the small fruit up.

Gadreel looked over at Castiel, who shrugged. “You’re a grazer animal, there’s plenty of grass around. Go eat that.”

Castiel ended up with a mouthful of horse tail, and swore that one day Gadreel would face his fury.

“Stop messing around and help me set up camp,” Dean ordered, quickly removing the gear from Baby and stacking it in the corner.

“I thought you were the one who told me I needed to pay more attention to my horse?” Castiel grouched, but began to unpack his own storage supplies.

Since “Zeke” was a bigger horse, they used him to carry some of the heavier objects, like the equipment they would need for pitching a tent. Said tent came in multiple pieces, none of which looked stable enough for a safe shelter, and Castiel had no idea how any of the tiny pieces fit together without using some sort of sorcery.

“You’ve never gone camping before, have you?”

“Not like this,” Castiel muttered darkly as he eyed the contraption with malice, and fought the strong desire to set it on fire.

“Let me handle that. Do you at least know how to start a fire?”

“...Does using magic count?”

Dean stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t think clerics knew that kind of magic.”

“Most don’t, but you aren’t exactly the normal wizard yourself,” Castiel said, nodding towards the multiple weapons on Dean’s person.

“Touche. My excuse is my parents raised me to be unconventional. What’s yours?”

Castiel paused and looked down at his hands, or rather Jimmy’s hands. It was still an odd sight to see pinkish skin instead of his ebony and sapphire scales. “My… peers used to make fun of me for my gifts. Some had the gift of invisibility, others could move things with their minds, or even summon fierce storms. But me? All I could do was heal.”

Castiel took a deep breath, not knowing why he even admitted that much, but not willing to stop. “Our teacher said we all had the gift to create fire, and I trained long and hard so that I could harness its ability. Though it reacts a little differently because of my g—gift. Instead of flames, it looks more like,” he clenched his fist tight, but when he slowly uncurled his fingers there was a ball of white light dancing in his hand. A miniature sun.

“Wow, Jimmy,” Dean looked at Castiel in awe, “that’s a pretty neat trick. Is it just for show or can you…?”

“If I wanted to, I could easily turn that cursed thing you call a tent into ashes.”

Dean shielded the tent, looking at Cas in horror, “No way, this shit is friggin’ expensive. Go be useful and make us a damn campfire.”

Gathering enough wood to keep the fire fed took more time than actually setting the fire, and once the tent was set—although Castiel still questioned the validity of the shelter—Dean took Castiel over towards the creek to teach him how to fish. Castiel regretted not taking longer to gather sticks.

“So you just throw this poor worm into the water—effectively drowning it—hope that its corpse will entice a fish to come over and impale itself onto your hook?”

Dean groaned, “You didn’t need to describe it like that, but yeah. Also remember not to pull the line too soon or you will scare the fish away.”

“...Why don’t we use nets, again?”

“Because we’d have to be deep in the water for that, and there’s no way in hell that I’m standing in that frigid water before spring.”

Castiel made a face. Dragons didn’t belong in the water; they would get waterlogged and weaken their grace to the point where they’d lose all buoyancy. Many dragons have been killed because they drowned, and Cas didn’t want to test those odds. Especially not in his fragile human body.

“What do we do if we don’t catch anything?”

“Then you better hope we catch something tomorrow. There’s not much vegetation we can survive off of during this time of year until it starts warming up.”

“What do we do if the temperature drops and the water freezes?”

Dean glared at him. “If you jinxed us then I’m making your ass crawl across a river to ice fish.”

“Why do I have a feeling that I will be hating fish after this trip?”

Dean pursed his lips in thought. “There’s a very high chance of that. But hey, if you get disgusted by seafood, you’re more than welcome to join the horses in grazing on the grass.”

Gadreel lifted his head from where he was grazing and folded his ears down in warning.

“I don’t even want your grass!” Castiel protested.

Dean barked a laughed and then stiffened as his line dipped into the water. “Speaking of seafood, I think I _see_ food coming our way.” He expertly tugged on the line and smirked. “Feels like a big one!”

The catfish turned out to be the length of Dean’s arm, much to Dean’s delight, “It’s your lucky day, Jimbo. You don’t have to fish today.”

“You’re… going to be sharing your meal with me?” Castiel stated in confusion.

His kind only shared amongst fletchlings, except for mothers and their dragonlings. It was important to be able to hold one’s own in the flock so that one did not become a burden.

“Well, duh. There’s plenty of meat on here for the both of us. You can make it up to me later once you get the hang of fishing.”

Dean humanely dealt with the fish before preparing the meat for their dinner. Castiel was unaccustomed to how humans dealt with their fresh kill, and was curious as to their process. He was also unfamiliar with the spices that Dean was using, and would have been more suspicious of the meal that was offered to him if he wasn’t already so hungry.

“Here you go, blackened catfish. Shame we didn’t have any french fries to go with that. Still haven’t figured out how to make them on an open fire like this. That and potatoes can get heavy and take up too much space.”

Castiel didn’t care about Dean’s ramblings because he was too busy trying to inhale the food he’d been provided. Fish wasn't as slimy as he expected, in fact the meat was so juicy that it melted on his tongue. If all seafood tasted like this then maybe Castiel could survive on his new pescetarian diet.

“Good, huh?” Dean bragged, though he did look concerned.

Castiel quickly nodded his head, not bothering to stop eating long enough to respond.

“Man, note to self, make sure that we take more rest stops so that we get you fed. You know, before you resort to eating the horses.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m usually not this bad, but I forgot to eat yesterday because of… all of the excitement.”

“You mean that you didn’t know how to fend for yourself with your wife gone?” Dean smirked.

“Yes… exactly,” Castiel agreed, playing along.

“Well lucky for you, I make a damn good cook,” Dean bragged.

“I hope your confidence can match your skill, because now I will be expecting more out of your meals, and will be greatly disappointed if you don’t live up to your statement.”

“You know, the offer to graze with the horses still stands.”

Castiel laughed, not understanding how he could feel so light and cheery with his current company. Feeling bold, Castiel nudged Dean with his elbow. “In all seriousness, this meal is delicious. Thank you.”

Dean blushed, “My pleasure. Though honestly, I prefer cooking for others instead of just for myself. That and I like seeing it make other people happy.”

Castiel froze mid bite, realizing in dawning horror that he was happy. For some inexplicable reason, he was happy sharing this campfire and meal with his brother’s killer.

Appetite lost, Castiel slowly put down his fork and stared at the ground. What the hell was he doing here?

For a brief moment, Castiel had forgotten who he was, and what Dean is.

But he couldn’t afford to do that.


	11. Late Night Chats

_/Castiel? Thank the fires, I was afraid that something had happened to you!/_

Castiel rubbed his aching head with his free hand, “Please, Anna, not so loud. I have enough of a splitting headache without you screaming into my cerebellum.”

_/Why do you have a headache? Did that human do something to you?/_

“Yes, but not in the way you would assume. Dean won us a keg of mead earlier in the evening and would not go to bed until we finished the whole thing. Even with the help of other humans, it was still a copious amount for this new body to take.”

_/Castiel, are you saying you are... intoxicated?/_

“No,” Castiel growled, but that only made his head hurt worse. “No, my liver has already processed most of the intoxication. This, I believe, is called being ‘hung over’.”

_/The better question is why did you let the human get you into that state? How did he coerce you?/_

“It wasn’t about human coercion! If anything it was all part of my plan. While I might be hungover, he is currently deep asleep in our room. With the amount of alcohol flowing through his system, he won’t even realize that I snuck out to talk to you, or wake up when I return.”

_/Where even are you? And why didn’t you call last night?/_

“I’m in a human village, known as Marion’s Township. Only 80 miles frompassed my original destination of Pontiac.”

_/Only 80? That’s not far at all, not for all the time that’s passed./_

“I’m aware,” Castiel groaned. “But horses can only travel 30-50 miles in a day, and human limbs are even more useless. I can see now why the King predicted that it would take the human at least a year before becoming a threat. Especially if we continue at this snail’s pace.”

_/I was going to say, I’m sure that even a wyrm could best you now./_

“Even if it’s true, you don’t need to mock me so.”

_/You still haven’t told me why you didn’t call last night./_

“Well for one, Dean was very close the whole time. Even our lodgings were close together. Apparently humans carry around portable nests on their travels. It’s aggravating to put together, hideous to look at, but is more comfortable than the hard ground. That and when two humans nestle inside it, it does provide an ample amount of heat.”

_/Nestle inside? Were you… were you nesting with the hunter?/_

Castiel remembered the way he woke up that morning, curled around the human, with a feeling of peace that he had never felt before. He had wanted to protectively furl his wings around that warm body, and bury his muzzle against their pulsepoint. He never had that reaction before, even when sharing a nest with Anna, and it concerned him.

Even stranger was how Dean commented on the fact that Castiel had been humming in his sleep, the best that this body could do for purring.

It was disturbing how much his unconsciousness seemed to trust Dean, and he wondered what enchantments the hunter might have used to make him react as defenseless as a kit.

How many other dragons were as easily charmed?

_/Castiel?/_

“Sorry I was just thinking. And I told you, my options for a place to slumber were limited and there was no feasible excuse as to why I should not share my shelter with him. You want me to gain his trust, do you not? Not to mention, we each had our separate corners in the tent-nest.”

There was a clear line drawn between them in the tent, a line that had been erased in the middle of their sleepcycles, as both men had woken up wrapped around the other.

Much to both of their embarrassments.

_/Yes, but do you really need to wrap yourself around that creature? It’s nauseating just to think about./_

It should be, considering what Dean was, but it had also felt nice.

“I do what I need to do to make sure this mission succeeds, Anna,” Castiel swore. “I won’t forget.”

_/Good. I… I know how hard it is to slip into another form and have a different life. But you mustn’t forget who you really are./_

Castiel leaned against a nearby pillar. “I know, Anna. I might look like Jimmy Novak, but I am Castiel.”

_/Right, I know. I just… By the sun, I just miss you and I’m so worried. I don’t like you being alone out there with that brute. I had a nightmare yesterday that the reason you didn’t call was because you were already a throw rug on that human’s floor./_

“I would hope that you had more faith in me than that. Only lasting a day and a half on my mission before being pelted? That would be quite the disgrace.”

_/You know what I mean./_

“I’m also not alone. I have you to communicate with, Balthazar should be back within three days time, and I… well there’s also Gadreel?”

Since Castiel was having this late night conversation near Gadreel’s stall—under the guise that his mumblings and chatter were him talking to his stallion—he was able to hear everything Castiel was saying, and turned his massive head his way to eye Cas suspiciously.

_/Is he really an asset to you at this point?/_

Admittedly, Gadreel seemed more likely to run off with Dean than pledge his loyalties to Castiel. It was strange to see how the fearsome drake followed Dean around like a puppy, or how Dean made sure to sneak his “Zeke”—as well as Baby—apples from the kitchen.

Castiel wondered if it was Gadreel’s loyalties to humans that had cost him his wings. Then again, if that was the case then the king wouldn’t have sent Gadreel along.

It must have been Dean’s magic, enthralling Gadreel the same way it was attempting to do to Castiel. But Castiel wasn’t as foolish as the drake.

“He’s serving his purpose for now. Though I’m not as foolish as to say he should gain pardon once this mission is over. He still has a long way to prove to me that he is worthy of that.”

Castiel made sure to cast a warning glance at Gadreel as he said that. The drake folded his ears back, while his tail thrashed angrily. Castiel wasn’t sure if these were normal horse mannerisms, or if he had retained them from his dragon form.

_/Alright. So what are your plans, if we do not have the chance to talk for another couple of days?/_

Castiel tried to ignore the disappointment he knew she must be feeling, “We will head out in the morning, after serving breakfast. Oh, umm, Dean managed to get us a deal where we would get our rooms for only a couple of copper pieces instead of a silver coin if we help serve the meals during our stay. That and we get free meals out of it.”

_/You’re serving humans like you’re some kind of drake?/_ The displeasure in her voice was palpable.

“Humans rely on currency more than our kind do. Currency that I don’t have much of, and the little I managed to scavenge from the Novak’s place is not enough to sustain myself for a year’s time. Dean fairs no better as he was robbed before I encountered him.”

_/Dean? Why do you keep calling the human that?/_

Castiel's cheeks warmed, which was a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the stable. “Because it is his name?”

_/Castiel, you’re sounding dangerously close to becoming attached./_

Castiel ran his blunt claws—nails humans called them—down the side of the wooden stall; wishing that it could leave some indentation behind. Some sort of trace to remind him that he was really here in this moment and that this all wasn’t an elaborate dream.

Sometimes he couldn’t figure out what was the scarier thought; that this was all a figment, or that this was reality.

_/Castiel?/_

“I’m still here,” he whispered, and then repeated himself once he remembered how low his human voice sounded to Anna already. “I’m just thinking.”

_/Of what?/_

“Of…” He scrambled for a decent excuse. “The other details of our journey. We will only be going another 30 miles or so before stopping around a Village known as Fall Creek. Apparently there is a lot of freshwater there so it’s a good place for us to rest and catch some fish.”

_/Revolting./_

“I thought so too, but the last fish that Dean caught turned out scrumptious. I think you would have liked it.”

_/I doubt it, I’m not ravenous or desperate enough to try/_

“I suppose I am desperate. There will be a lot of fishing in the foreseeable future. Might also have to deal with some water monsters, or forest monsters as well. We’ve been lucky so far to avoid detection since I still had some of my dragon musk, but I’m sure that scent has dissipated by now.”

_/Or was overwhelmed by the stench of human./_

“More likely by the stench of horses,” Castiel mused, honestly.

Gadreel shot him a glare, as usual. Castiel responded with an interesting hand gesture that he had picked up from Dean earlier that day.

Castiel wasn’t sure what it meant, but the other human that Dean had used it against—a heavy set man—had seemed angry at the gesture.

The brute who had shoved Castiel out of his path because Castiel had stopped to admire some of the merchants in the human village. Castiel had never been this close to a human trade post, and was curious about the goods sold there, but the man decided that Castiel wasn’t far enough out of the way for him to walk around.

Even though Castiel had been sure to leave plenty of space for just that reason.

Usually such an encounter would be insignificant to Castiel, but he was still getting used to bipedalism which caused him to lose his balance and fall against the nearest display window. His thinner epidermis was still sore from the transformation, and the sudden collision with a solid surface was jarring, and he emitted a low whine of pain.

Dean had reacted immediately to the noise, checked over Castiel for harm, before he angrily turned around and berated the larger human. Castiel didn’t remember much of the exchange between the two, but he did remember Dean’s weird hand gesture of sticking his middle finger up in the air.

Dean later explained that it was called “flipping the bird” and that humans used it to show displeasure and ill will towards another person.

Castiel thought it was perfectly fitting to give the same gesture towards Gadreel, and he had a feeling that the drake would do it to him as well if he could.

_/The more you talk about your mission, the less I envy you,/_ Anna remarked. _/Will you talk to me again when you reach this creek village?/_

“I will try, but Anna I can’t promise that I’ll be able to talk every night—”

_/You did before,/_ Anna cut in, her voice bordering on hysteria. _/You swore to me you would talk to me every night!/_

“I said as frequently as I could. I had not anticipated how little alone time I really have, or that I would have to physically speak in order to contact you. I thought it would be nonverbal in this form, but you couldn’t hear me when I tried.”

_/Maybe that was just because you were still too new to your body. You should try it again now!/_ She half-pleaded, half-demanded, her voice raising to a pitch that was hurting Castiel’s head.

Not wanting to argue with her, he sent a quick hello message through their link, and waited for any type of response. He tried again and again, until finally Anna gave in.

_/You swear you aren’t just ignoring me?/_

“You’re my closest friend, Anna. I could never do that.”

_/I know. And I know I sound clingy and pathetic and I absolutely hate it. I just… I have no idea what to do with myself, but every time I step outside I get the pitying looks and whispers. Everyone is expecting me to fall apart, and I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing it come true./_

“Then don’t. Anna, you are one of the strongest, most courageous, and most cunning dragons I have ever met, and I know you can rise above this tragedy. There’s a reason why I trusted you with not only my brother’s seat on the council, but my own as well. You can and will get through this.”

_/I know,/_ Anna growled in annoyance before sighing. _/I know. I should use my time to stop brooding./_

“If I could make a suggestion? If you want to be kept busy, maybe you can be an ambassador to one of the smaller territories towards the south? There’s been little communication with them in the past couple of decades, and it would be very beneficial for us all to re-establish a direct contact with them again.”

_/You trust me with this? Wouldn’t this be more fitting for your brothers?/_

“It’s something that should have been dealt with a long time ago, but is too time consuming for any of us to do it, and the King hasn’t thought it was much of a concern since he can still link with them. But I think it would be beneficial for everyone involved if you oversaw them.”

_/Of course, my Prince./_ Anna solemnly swore.

“You’re a princess, Anna, and my friend. You don’t need to treat me with deference,” Castiel said before letting out a huge yawn.

_/Sometimes I forget,/_ She admitted, her voice coming through much softer than any of her other messages. _/Though it is getting late, and you’ve already humored me enough./_

“You make it sound as if talking to you is a chore.”

_/No, but I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with right now, either. Go, head back to bed. I’ll miss you, but I need to have faith that I will hear from you again./_

“You will, Anna,” Castiel swore. “I keep your scale on me at all times, and I know that I can always depend on you if I get into any trouble.”

_/Always,/_ she agreed.

“The sun sets tonight, but—”

_/It will rise again in the morning,/_ Anna finished. _/I look forward to being reunited with you./_

“As do I. Good night, Anna.”

Once again, Castiel felt the cold tremors of being disconnected from Anna, and hoped that Anna didn’t feel the same thing each time they spoke their goodbyes. He hoped that he only felt that way because it was his lone reminder of who he was, and not just the Jimmy Novak disguise.

Gadreel eyed him, the judgement clear in his eyes.

With a groan, Castiel pushed off against the stable door, so that he could stand up straight in an attempt to look taller. Gadreel was still a couple of inches taller than Castiel, but it was at least closer this way.

“What do you want from me?” Castiel demanded.

Gadreel snorted and went back to grazing, much to Castiel’s annoyance.

“Oh no you don’t,” Castiel growled, banging on the horse’s stall door. “You clearly disapprove and dislike me. You might as well voice your opinion to me.”

_/You’re right, I don’t like you,/_ Gadreel admitted, head still down and nosing at the hay in his bucket. _/Which is why talking with you about the matter is meaningless./_

“It’s not when you seem to be favoring the human. Just because you dislike me doesn’t mean you should be risking our people for—”

_/Our people? They stopped being my people when they tortured me for centuries and tore off my wings,/_ Gadreel hissed out, a strange noise coming from his equine mouth. _/Why think of them as my people when they’ve long stopped seeing me as anything but a means to an end? A tool that they can use for their own purpose./_

Castiel stiffened. “Those sounds like words of treason to me. I could have you reported and—”

_/And I let it slip about the doubts you’ve been having, or the way you’ve been wrapping yourself around the human./_

Castiel’s heartbeat quicken, “They wouldn’t believe your blasphemy.”

_/No, they wouldn’t. Though they might think differently when they discovered you scent marked the human./_

Castiel froze. “Any close interactions I’ve had with the human has been because of—”

Gadreel let out a whinny that almost sounded like a laugh. _/You really think they wouldn’t be suspicious of you? Keeping close is one thing, but you marked his neck last night. No one would believe that you would debase yourself just for a mission./_

Castiel tried to keep himself calm, but it felt like his heart was teetering between either beating too fast, or stopping all together from pure terror. “It was an accident.”

_/I doubt anyone would believe that./_

Castiel had thought that it had been his imagination when he woke up that morning curled around Dean. Despite the separate sleeping bags, they had found themselves entwined together and with Castiel’s face pressed firmly in Dean’s neck. They had both nervously excused the arrangement as them being too cold in the night, and had unconsciously sought each other out for warmth.

However, Castiel could smell himself on the human the whole day, and was admittedly distracted most of the morning. Even when he shared a nest with Anna, neither of them had smelt like the other. Not that way.

Dragons, like other species, had specialized scent glands underneath their chins that they would use to mark their loved ones, but there was a difference in the scents of a friend, versus a family member, versus a mate.

Dean smelt like a mate.

“You’re wrong,” Castiel hissed, though he wasn’t sure if he was addressing himself or Gadreel, before scrambling away from the stall and into the chilly night air.


	12. Bed And Breakfast

Despite Castiel’s vow to distance himself from the hunter, by morning he found himself wrapped around the man again, with his nose buried deep in the juncture between neck and jaw, and a happy hum bubbling from his own throat.

It was made even worse when Dean chuckled, informing Castiel that the human was aware of what he was doing.

The only saving grace was the fact that Castiel’s scent had diminished enough that he was unable to remark Dean in his sleep.

“You know, as much as I appreciate a warm body at night, I feel like I should warn you that I’m not your wife.”

Irritated, Castiel shoved himself off of the hunter, “Clearly. Amelia is not hairy, and is a better sight to awaken to.”

Dean pouted “Oh come on, Jimmy. I’m not that hideous to look at.”

“Be grateful that there are no mirrors around,” Castiel teased and was immediately met with Dean’s pillow to his face.

“Yeesh, just no respect. You let a guy share your bed, with the expectations that he would stay on his side for once, and not only do you wake up with a human blanket, but he also has the nerve to call you ugly.”

“I’m just being factual,” Castiel said, voice muffled by the pillow before he removed it in favor of shoving it back into Dean’s face. “Speaking of, it was my coins that we used to rent this room, so if it is anyone’s bed, it is mine.”

“Details, schmetails,” Dean said, easily batting away the pillow.

Castiel was about to point out that the latter wasn’t a word, but was silenced by a flick to the forehead. Instead he sat up and shot Dean a glare.

Dean smirked back before rolling out of bed, “Come on, lazybones. If we stay in bed any longer, we won’t be able to do the morning rush, and then we have to pay double the room.”

“Since it’s my coins we used, shouldn’t you be the one to work the shift,” Castiel yawned, and laid back down. “That sounds more fair to me.”

“Yeah, no, we got the deal we got for _two_ able-bodied workers. They’re not going to be satisfied with just one of us.”

“How unfortunate for you,” Castiel said, shifting his back until he found a comfortable position on the hard mattress.

“Oh no you don’t,” Dean growled, grabbed the blanket Castiel was laying on top of, and gave a mighty yank to pull the blanket out from under him, making Castiel fall from the bed.

Castiel glared at Dean from his new vantage point on the floor, “I loathe you.”

“Love ya too, sunshine. Now come on and get ready. Don’t think I’m above whipping your ass with this blanket.”

“You highly overestimate my opinion of you.” Castiel muttered, reluctantly rising to his feet with the aid of Dean’s hands.

“Oh, don’t be mean. After two days in a row of snuggling, that’s got to make us some sort of friends.”

“I thought you were just an Amelia replacement?”

“Ouch, Jimmy. That really hurt my feelings.” Dean placed a hand over his heart like Castiel had shot him there.

“Didn’t you say we had to get a move on for the morning?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just let me put on some clean clothes.” Dean’s hand slid to the bottom of his sleep shirt and pulled the fabric up, revealing the smooth muscle that laid underneath.

Dean’s age might be that of a fletchling, but he had the sculpted body of a warrior, and Castiel couldn’t help but drink in the sight of Dean’s chiseled muscles, ones that could only be gained from hard work and skill.

Dean caught Castiel’s stare and winked. “Careful, Amelia’s going to get jealous.”

Castiel quickly shook his head and walked past Dean so that he could find some clothes himself, “She has no reason to. There wasn’t anything to see that I don’t already have.”

Dean was silent, but Castiel could feel his eyes on his back as he shed his own shirt off, “Huh, wasn’t expecting a cleric to have so much muscle.”

Castiel was grateful that Jimmy was in healthy shape, but there weren’t as many muscles as he would have liked there to be. “I like to stay active. Plus, I grew up as a farm hand, and you need to retain a decent amount of muscle mass for that type of lifestyle.”

“I bet,” Dean muttered, before rummaging in his rucksack for a pair of pants.

Castiel did the same, wanting the excuse to be able to leave the room as soon as possible. “How long do you think it will take before we can hit the road?”

“Two hours in the kitchen, give or take. But at least we can take some of the leftovers on the road with us. Which means less creek-food for you.” Dean said, amusement so clear in his voice that Castiel didn’t even need to turn around to know that there was a smirk on his face.

“I still stand by my original statement: it’s not seafood if it doesn’t come from the sea.”

“Well don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of creek-food, lake-food, and river-food to sample along the way to compare to seafood.”

“I really do hope that’s not the only thing we’ll eat on the road.”

“We’ll forage to see if there’s any fruits or veggies to gnaw at, and there’s also wild game that we can hunt. Though I’m warning you right now that we aren’t hunting any rabbits.”

Castiel paused before turning back towards Dean, who was now fully clothed. “Why not rabbits?”

“You’re kidding,” Dean looked at him in horror. “I refuse to kill anything that is small and fluffy. I know people who have them as pets.”

“Dean, the marketplace had some of their meat hanging—”

“Nope! Don’t want to hear it. Bunnies are pets, not food.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment. Rabbits were miniscule prey in comparison to his true form, so he never bothered hunting them before. Couldn’t miss what he never had. “Alright, no rabbits. Any other restrictions?”

“No, but I do have one suggestion. You need to start treating Zeke better.”

It took Castiel a moment to remember Gadreel’s new name. “I’m not behaving until he does.”

“Really man? I thought I was petty, but I was never that bad. You do know he’s a horse right? A poor, abused horse.”

Castiel neglected to mention how Gadreel was neither an innocent victim or a real horse. He also tried not to think about how he didn’t know any of the details as to why Gadreel was a drake, only that he committed some crime that was awful enough to warrant the removal of his wings and status.

Instead he just grumbled, “Yes, but he still doesn’t like me.”

“Trust me, I’ll show you the tricks to have him eating out of your hands in no time.”

Castiel made a face, preferring that Gadreel and his mouth stayed far away from Castiel’s hands, “I don’t think we need to go that far. As long as he stops plotting to kill me, I’ll be happy.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “That’s a good one, Jimmy. Trust me, Zeke might be a giant, but he’s a softie.”

Castiel looked at Dean like he was crazy, which he was considering to be a real possibility the longer he spent time in the human’s presence. He was even having those thoughts while they were in the kitchen, cooking at a mad frenzy to keep up with the demands of all the hungry occupants of the Inn. Despite the turmoil, Dean was smiling wide and whistling a merry tune.

Meanwhile, Castiel was pretty sure he had enough ingredients in his hair to be considered one of the breakfast items.

Dean seemed to agree as he snickered everytime he caught a glimpse of Castiel. “Careful Cas, if you get too angry you might just end up cooking that egg on your head.”

“How can you possibly find any enjoyment in this place of torture?” Castiel growled, as he once again cracked an egg too hard, and had to fish the shells out of the bowl.

Apparently humans did not appreciate having eggshell in their meal, despite them being rich in nutrients.

“Well for one thing, seeing you get pissed off at all the tiny things is pretty hilarious.” Dean smirked while he easily cracked five eggs in a row without dropping a single sliver of eggshell.

Castiel hated him even more.

“Also compared to hunting monsters, this is a cakewalk.”

Casitel didn’t understand why anyone would want to walk on top of a piece of baked sugar. He did suppose that it was fluffy, but the mess and stickiness would get uncomfortable quickly.

“I guess to each their own?”

Dean chuckled again. “If it’s really getting to you, I’ll ask Ms. Dowling to switch you over to dishes. There’s got to be a big enough pile up by now.”

Castiel wrinkled his nose; not so much at the thought of the water but the thought of the basic lipids getting onto his new, delicate epidermis and damaging its fragile layers. He only recently got comfortable enough in the skin to not wince every time the fabric of his clothes brushed against it.

“I would rather stay here with you.”

“Okay, though maybe I should give you some tips? Might make the rest of this shift go a little easier for you.”

Castiel smiled graciously. “I would appreciate that.”

Dean’s cheeks redden and he cleared his throat. “No problem. Guess you didn’t really have to worry about cooking before with your wife around, huh?”

“You can say that,” Castiel admitted, as he began to beat the egg yolks with a wooden spoon.

In reality, Castiel was royalty and was used to either having the drakes bring him his meal when at home; or roasting his kill with his own magic when he was on the road and too hungry to even care about taste.

“Well rule number one: don’t be aggressive in the kitchen,” Dean said, squeezing in beside him and tapping at Castiel’s hand he relinquished both the spoon and bowl over to Dean. “They say the best food is made with love and there’s truth to that, no matter how crazy it sounds.”

Even though he was still “beating” the eggs, Dean’s movements were more precise, with no jerking or flailing, and he didn’t look like his mixture was trying to revolt and storm out of the bowl.

“If you are too rough you’ll only end up making a mess, or losing half the flavor. And when you pour the mix into the frying pan you need to be careful to make sure it doesn’t splash all over. The key is to aim for the middle and to stop pouring when you fill most of the pan. That will give you a nice, even coating, versus if you wait too long you’ll either have it too thick and it won’t cook evenly, or you’ll lose some of the batch to the fire.”

Castiel nodded, watching Dean closely as if this was an essential skill he needed for his survival.

“Now flipping is also an artform, you need to find that perfect balance of the eggs being cooked enough that they are still yellow and juicy, but not overcooked and dried, and not undercooked and slimey. Also since you are a newb, use a freaking spatula! I know you see me flipping without one, but that’s taken years of practice to perfect, and if we lose another omelette piece, I’m pretty sure Ms. Dowling will be coming after your ass.”

“She already seems to dislike me.”

Castiel wasn’t sure if the darker skinned human disliked him because she could sense his otherness, or if she had qualms about Jimmy going on a dangerous quest despite having a family of his own. Either way, she made it clear that she liked Dean and had an issue with Castiel, even going so far as to give Dean twice the amount of food she gave Castiel.

“Yeah, she really didn’t seem to like the idea that you didn’t have your wedding ring on.”

That was because the real Jimmy was currently wearing it, while he and his family fled far north.

Wedding rings were an interesting human mating concept. It was how their kind identified whether or not someone had a mate. Probably because of their pitiful sense of smell.

Castiel blamed their tiny noses.

“As I explained before, I didn’t want to run the risk of losing or damaging it on this journey. Spending most of the year on the road fighting monsters did not sound like an ideal place to wear an ornamental piece of gold.”

“True. You’d probably get robbed.”

“You mean like what happened to you?” Castiel couldn’t help but point out.

Dean made a face before flipping the omelette, this time with a spatula so that Castiel could see how to properly work the contraption, and where to place each one of his digits. Everything felt so foreign in his new hands that he had no idea how to hold anything comfortably.

“Too soon, man. Way too soon. At least wait until the humiliation has died, huh?”

“When will that be? Before you are geriatric?”

“Jerry-what-ic?”

“It means old, Dean.”

“Hah, jokes on you, I’m never going to be old,” Dean laughed, transferring the now perfectly cooked omelette onto a plate. “Now be useful and fetch me some bacon.”

Castiel did so, all the while wondering what Dean meant by that. Was he just confident that he would never act old, despite his years on the earth, or did he suspect that he would one day be killed by the very things he hunted.

Just like Castiel was meant to…

Castiel quickly dug his blunt claws into the flesh of his palm, trying to derail that thought process.

Even though Castiel had every intention of fulfilling his mission, he was growing more convinced that he wasn’t going to kill Dean in order to succeed.

Transforming Dean into a horse would solve most of the problems. Afterall, a horse would have no way of wielding a powerful wand, and Dean seemed to love the creatures.

Castiel would even do his very best to make sure that Dean could have a long and happy life. With his healing magic, he could keep Dean alive well past the typical lifespan of even a human, and would be sure to do the same to Baby so that Dean would always have his faithful companion. He’d even make sure that he could have fresh apples everyday.

Hell, he’d even keep Zeke around if Dean really enjoyed his company.

The more he thought about it, the more he grew to like the idea of an equine Dean.

“What’cha smirking about over there?” Dean looked at Castiel curiously before turning his attention back to the smoking meat.

“Just thinking about horses. Out of curiosity, if you could be a horse, do you think you would be happy?”

Dean’s new gaze was one of complete bewilderment. “Shit, Jimmy, anyone tell you that you’re a weird bastard before?”

Castiel paused, as he relooked through Jimmy’s memories. “Maybe not phrased together like that.”

Whatever Dean mumbled under his breath was too low for Castiel’s human ears to pick up.

Deciding Dean just needed a bit of coaxing, Castiel continued, “I think if I had to be any animal species, it would be a cat. They are apex predators, but can have a very relaxing lifestyle. I also appreciate their ability to fit into any container and fall asleep.”

Dean snickered, flipping the bacon over. “Okay, Mr. Lazy Cat, I can see that. Speaking of, just because you can’t cook well doesn’t mean you can’t work. Now get your frying pan over here and get back to working on eggs.”

Castiel let out an annoyed huff, but complied. It wasn’t until he had successfully cracked and flipped over his egg that Dean finally responded.

“You know what? Yeah, I think I would enjoy being a horse. I mean, being a prey species sucks, but at least they are big and not completely defenseless. That and I love their speed, and wouldn’t mind being able to run like that.”

Castiel hummed in approval, making Dean laugh.

Curious, Cas looked over at Dean. “What?”

“Nothing,” Dean snickered again, placing the bacon on the plate and bringing it over to the serving window, where one of the staff members could grab it and serve it to a paying guest. “It’s just that you have a habit of humming a lot. It’s kinda adorable.”

Dean’s face immediately turned red and he forced out a cough, “I mean, adorable like a purring kitten.”

Castiel blushed as well, knowing that there was truth to the statement. He kept humming because his body was unable to “purr” like it wanted to. Which was odd, since he never purred as frequently as he did when he was around Dean. The sound just tumbled out of him without his permission.

Perhaps it was a side effect of his recent humanity?

The rest of the morning rush passed with little fanfare, and they were finally given the go ahead to pack up their things and head out of town. Baby had greeted Dean with a happy neigh and nuzzled his face, while Gadreel tried to bite Castiel on the nose.

Castiel couldn’t understand why Dean thought that Zeke’s misbehavior was his fault, instead of the truth that Gadreel was a miscreant in any incarnation.

Dean even had the nerve to laugh at him, “Come on, stop messing around with Zeke, and let’s get the hell out of here.”

“I don’t believe him trying to remove my nose from my face counts as ‘messing around.’ Are you sure I just can’t invest in some sort of permanent muzzle for him?”

“If you do that, then he’ll never trust you.”

Castiel shot a glare at Gadreel, highly doubting that the beast would ever trust him even without the muzzle. He certainly was never going to trust the criminal.

Dean rolled his eyes and came over towards the two and gently stroked the bridge of Gadreel’s nose, making the giant relax, and almost melt under Dean’s ministrations.

“See, he’s never going to trust you if you don’t trust him. That’s how it works; you gotta be willing to make that leap if you expect them to do the same.”

Castiel studied Dean closely, taking in the gold around his summer green eyes and the way they glowed with life. He knew Dean was only talking about the horse, but it felt like something more.

Cautiously, he placed his own hand beside Dean’s, their fingers so close to each other that all it would take was an accidental twitch to end up on top of the other’s hand. For some reason, Castiel wanted to get rid of that gap entirely.

“I think I understand what you mean.”

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, until an impatient Baby trotted up to Dean and nudged him in the back.

“Umm, right. Come on, we’ve wasted enough daylight,” Dean said, quickly removing his hand and turning away so that Castiel didn’t see his reddening face.

“Of course,” Castiel practically whispered, unsure as to why he felt so disappointed.

/ _Remind me again, my Prince, how I was wrong before?_ /

Castiel took advantage of his position to flick Gadreel on the cheekbone before climbing over onto his back.

There was no point in trusting a traitor’s words, after all.


	13. One Day

“See, Jimmy, I told you this side quest wouldn’t be out of our way,” Dean said brightly as he pointed out the _Welcome to Cicero_ sign.

Castiel glowered at the back of Dean’s stupid head, and even Gadreel gave an annoyed whiny. “Not out of our way? It took us a full day to get here! A full day north when we should be heading east! Not only are we now a day behind schedule, but there is also no telling how long it will take us to finish our business here.”

“It shouldn’t take more than three days tops. Plus, this way Baby and Zeke can rest up for a bit. It’s not good to be pushing them so far everyday.”

Gadreel’s ears perked up in interest, and Castiel knew that the drake had forgiven the hunter already.

“I still don’t know why we had to come out here. Aren’t there any other supernatural hunters that could handle this? You already have your own quest to deal with.”

“That’s why this is a side quest. Come on, Jimmy, I know you’re tired and cranky, but _think_ for a second. I’m one of the best dragon hunters around—”

Castiel clenched his jaw, holding back the scathing reply he had for that comment, and trying not to remember how Uriel looked the last time he ever saw his brother.

“—and third, we are the closest. A day’s ride might be obnoxious, but that’s actually close by in hunting terms. Anyone else could take weeks to get here, and we can’t risk anymore kids being snatched up and parents being killed.”

As much as Castiel was loath to admit it, Dean did have a valid point. Humans were dying and something supernatural in origin was picking them off.

Though there was one thing he didn’t agree with.

“Why are you so sure that this monster is a dragon? It doesn’t fit their typical behavior.”

Dean swiveled around his saddle to look incredulously at Castiel. “Are you fucking with me, Jimbo? This has dragon MO all over it!”

“I just don’t see—”

“Exhibit A, children being snatched, especially infants or children under five. Exhibit B, parents that are around the child at the time of the snatching are killed trying to keep the kid safe—”

“But none of those victims are ever found burnt to a crisp like a dragon would do to their kill. They’ve all had unfortunate accidents and the children remain safe.”

“The dragons can make it look like an accident,” Dean proclaimed, sounding more and more like a lunatic. “That’s how they cover their tracks, make it look like they didn’t do it.”

It was sad how much Dean had to bend the truth to turn dragons into villains in his warped reality.

“All I’m saying, Dean, is that we can’t go in there with any sort of biases to interfere with our investigations,” Castiel smoothly replied. “There are many monsters that could also be at fault. Changelings, for example. Not only are they notorious for kidnapping children, but they also leave behind their own spawn who slowly feed on the parents until they are drained of their life essence.”

“Wanna make a bet?” Dean challenged.

“I would, but it sounds cruel to take money away from a man who already has so little.”

“Dick,” Dean said with a laugh. “Okay, no money. If it turns out to be dragons, you have to put up the tent by yourself for the next month.”

“That sounds like a punishment for the both of us. You do know that without proper shelter in this cold weather, we can die, correct?”

“Fine, then you have to heal me from my hangovers for the rest of the journey.”

“You might as well have me heal your liver while you’re at it. That poor organ is extremely mistreated by you,” Castiel said with a shrug. Doing all of that magic would be a waste of energy, but it was impossible for Castiel to lose. “And if I win… you’ll have to continue to pitch the tent by yourself, and do the fishing. With no more trying to make me help.”

“Deal,” Dean agreed, before facing forward again. “Now let’s go find us an inn with a decent stable.”

It took almost another hour for Dean to find a place that had both an acceptable stable and was something they could afford. The exchange this round was to muck out the stables every day, so that they could save a couple of copper pieces.

Castiel regretted not taking any of the gold from his collection before starting his journey. Dragons didn’t need gold for currency, but it was an important mineral for their diets, the way humans needed iron. It was also pleasing to look at, and every dragon had at least one piece on display in their den.

Apparently a single gold coin was worth a thousand silvers, and each silver coin worth ten coppers. Castiel could have made them very wealthy with just a single nugget from his collection, but there was also the risk that they would be attracting too much attention. It was apparently very rare for a human to have gold on them, or enough coin to exchange for a gold one.

Castiel would prefer not to be robbed. Dean did not make it sound like any fun.

“There you go, Baby,” Dean cooed at his beloved mare as he took off her saddle and began brushing her coat. “I know it’s been a rough couple of days, but now you can relax. Yeah, you get to stay here and graze to your heart’s content while Jimmy and I hunt a big, bad monster.”

“I’m surprised you want us to travel the rest of the way on foot,” Castiel admitted, slowly taking off Gadreel’s own saddle, mindful of the beast’s giant head, and all of the teeth he had inside. Teeth that were much bigger than Castiel’s pathetic sapien ones.

“All of the houses we need to investigate are blocks between each other, and the wooded area nearby has a bunch of close-together trees and muddy ground. Add in a monster that can spook the bravest warhorse and you have a recipe for either being flung out of your saddle, or a downed horse. It’s better not to take the risk.”

Castiel nodded, though he wished that humans weren’t such slow creatures. Traveling on horseback took long enough, but the bipedal method of walking was excruciating.

“I suppose this means that we will have to get up at some ungodly hour.” Castiel braced himself for the worst and groaned loudly when Dean said they needed to leave by sun-up.

“You really aren’t a morning person,” Dean teased.

“It’s not that I’m _not_ a morning person, I’m just the type that prefers more than eight hours of sleep on a given night.”

“Maybe you should try going to bed early for once instead of sneaking off to stargaze for hours on end,” Dean half-teased, half-complained.

Castiel froze, not realizing that Dean noticed when he slunk away to talk to Anna.

Dean turned towards him, and something on Castiel’s face made him sigh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You probably needed your privacy. Betcha miss your family a lot, huh?”

“Yes, I do,” Castiel admitted, though his thoughts were on the scarlet dragoness back home, and the ebony and pearl dragon that was no longer part of this world. “But how did you know that I was missing them?”

“Not hard to guess,” Dean said with a shrug, turning back to brushing Baby. “I can see it in your eyes that you’re missing them pretty bad. I know I miss… I can’t imagine what it’s like having to say goodbye to your wife and kid.”

Castiel wondered if it would have been hard for Uriel to have travelled so far if Anna did have a clutch before his last mission. Would he have requested a job that was closer to home, or would he have stayed by Anna’s side? Would he still be alive if they hadn’t decided to wait an extra couple of months?

Would Dean still be on the King’s radar?

“It is hard,” Castiel finally admitted, robotically picking up his own horse brush, and mechanically brushing the stallion. “I think about them all the time, and try to remind myself that what I am doing is for their sake. That failure to succeed can put everyone I love in danger.”

“Yeah,” Dean said softly, for once his voice betraying his young age. “That’s what I gotta keep telling myself too. That there’s no going back now, and that if I want a future for my family, then I need to do this.”

“But do you?” Castiel asked, abandoning his post in order to meet Dean’s eyes. “You’re so young, and still have so much to live for. Why are you the one who has to do this, and not anybody else?”

Dean’s eyes hardened. “It has to be me.”

“But why? There are plenty of other dragon hunters around. Heck, there’s the whole Campbell clan, isn’t there? Why does it have to be you?”

“Because it just has to be, okay!” Dean growled. “That wand that I’m after is pretty powerful shit. A regular ol’ hunter will fry themselves up the first time they try to use it. I was raised to be both a wizard and a hunter.”

“Then why not let the wizards handle it? The Men of Letters or somebody? Even witches can use wands!”

“The Men of Letters are a bunch of pansies who don’t like to get their own hands dirty, and a witch with that much power would be even worse than dragons.” Dean looked like he was moments away from breaking his brush, but instead slackened his grip and went back to Baby. “End of discussion. Now instead of worrying about me, how about you take care of your own horse for once.”

Cheeks burning, Castiel returned to Gadreel, who looked too smug about their exchange.

_/You don’t want to hurt him. You act like you are better than me, but you too have your doubts./_

Castiel didn’t respond, just went back to brushing Gadreel’s sides, trying not to recoil every time he came across a scar. He managed to heal many of the tiny lesions before, but the deeper lacerations still remained. Partially because he was afraid of the repercussions that would befall him if he removed them.

The ugly scars that still traced Gadreel’s body served as a reminder of what happened when someone betrayed the King. To turn one’s back on the King and the flock was the worst crime that could be committed, and any dragon who did so did not deserve to be a dragon. It was why their wings were carved out of them, and their blessings removed.

Why they were no longer dragons, but drakes.

Now those scars also served as a reminder to Castiel that his strange musings were dangerous.

_/It would do you well to not squash those thoughts as you come across them. For once in your life, have some of your own thoughts in that empty head of yours./_

Castiel growled threateningly, and could sense Gadreel’s amusement.

 _/O0r don’t. It doesn’t bother me either way. Though I can tell you one thing,/_ Gadreel craned his neck and looked up to the ceiling. _/You are going to hate yourself when you have to kill him. At first you’ll convince yourself that what you did was the right thing. All in the name of duty. But then his face will start haunting your dreams, then haunt your waking moments as well. You’ll grow to hate his very memory, because it was his fault you had to do what was necessary./_

Castiel tried to ignore Gadreel’s words, doing his best to finish brushing him down so that Dean wouldn’t yell at him, and inwardly cursing that the King had decided that Gadreel should be a giant, fluffy Clydesdale who required more grooming than Dean’s sleek Standardbred.

 _/One day you’ll stop hating him, though. That’s the day you’ll start hating yourself instead./_ Gadreel craned his neck again, this time to look at Castiel. _/That’s why your threats don’t bother me. It’s hard to be intimidated when you don’t even care what happens to your meaningless life./_

“Stop trying to get into my head,” Castiel hissed is a low whisper. “We are nothing alike. I am a _prince_ and you are nothing but a criminal.”

_/Funny how I am called a criminal now, when before I was exalted as a hero. Shows you how fickle opinions are, no matter the species./_

Castiel refused to respond, but instead worked as fast as he could to finish grooming Gadreel and getting him set up for the night. He was in the process of adding hay in a bucket for him when Dean stomped past him.

“I’m hitting the tavern, don’t wait up for me.”

Castiel angrily dropped the hay bucket on the ground. “We don’t even have enough coins for a separate bed, but you’re willing to blow it on more booze?”

“I’m not just wasting money on booze. I plan to win back some money as well.”

“By gambling,” Castiel huffed. “I don’t mind what you do with your own money, but you’ve been borrowing from me, and I’d rather you didn’t lose it all over something so reckless.”

Dean whirled angrily around to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight: you have _not_ been paying for my keep! Yeah, we’ve been using your money for the inns, but it’s my copper and silver that have been going into our food and supplies. Don’t think that stuff comes cheap either.”

Dean stomped closer towards him and pointed a finger angrily against his chest. “And second, you’re not my fucking dad, and you better stop treating me like some stupid kid. I’ve been taking care of myself and my family since I was five years old, and made my first kill when I was eleven. I’m not some misguided youth that you can save. I’m a fucking warrior and it’s about time you started treating me with more respect.”

“Did you ever think that maybe I’m worried about you?” Castiel was surprised to be raising his own voice. “That maybe I’m concerned that this quest of yours is too big for just the two of us, and that you might not be able to walk away from this alive?”

“Yeah, well, don’t be. I’m prepared to die.”

“Well, I’m not,” Castiel hissed, and he realized how true those words were. “I don’t want you to die.”

He silently uttered an apology to Anna, even though she could not hear him in this form. Despite everything, he could no longer resent his brother’s killer.

Dean was many things. He was loud, brash, arrogant, hot-headed, and a shameless flirt. However, he was also friendly, gentle, a natural caretaker, brave, and honest to a fault. The one thing Dean Winchester was not was the cruel monster his people thought he was.

Instead, he was the misguided youth that had the misfortune of being born into both a powerful and deranged bloodline.

“Not like I’m going to go all suicide mission,” Dean scoffed. “I’m going to try my damndest to make it back home, but I’ve made my peace with not making it out. As long as I take the friggin’ lizard tyrant down with me, then I’m good.”

Castiel had to fight back a recoil, reminded again that even though Dean wasn’t evil, he was dangerous. To keep Dean around meant risking his father’s life.

Turning Dean into a horse was looking more and more like the best option.

“What’s that look for?” Dean demanded.

Castiel quickly tried to think of a reasonable excuse for his affronted look. “Dragons aren’t lizards, Dean. They are a class of dinosaurs.”

“I thought those were just extinct dragon species?”

“Technically yes, but they are distant ancestors just as early _Homo Erectus_ are to modern-day humans,” Castiel pointed out, getting into his “teacher” mode. “It’s also the reason why dragons are feathered, though unlike other modern-day dinosaurs, also known as birds, they have scales, feathers, and protofeathers, which is why—”

“No offense, Jim, but I’m not in the mood to talk about the biology of dragons. Not unless you’re telling me the easiest way to break through those damn armored bellies of theirs.”

There actually was one way, but only the fangs and claws of a dragon were strong enough to take off their protective scales. It was their greatest evolutionary advantage.

However, Dean didn’t need to know that extra tidbit.

Instead, he demanded an answer of his own. “Why are you angry at me?”

“Because,” Dean snapped, and then seemed to deflate when he looked into Castiel’s eyes. He seemed as mesmerized by Castiel’s blue eyes, just as Castiel was mesmerized by Dean’s green and gold flecked ones.

“Because?”

“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m sort of child or a friggin’ burden. I can hold my own and I—” Dean lost his trail of thought as he continued to look into Castiel’s eyes. “Just stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you can see into my friggin’ soul. It’s creepy, dude.” Dean shook his head and trained his eyes towards the Clydesdale instead. “Look, I’m heading out. And don’t worry, you don’t have to share a room with me for the rest of the trip. Don’t need you to waste any more of your coins on my _useless_ ass.”

“Dean, that’s not what I—” But before Castiel could say more, Dean stormed back outside.

Frustrated, Castiel whirled around, kicked the side of the stall door, then cursed as his already aching joints were further abused.

 _/You know, you might actually be dumber than I initially gave you credit for,/_ Gadreel mused before sticking his giant head into the bucket.

“I hope you choke on your grains.”


	14. Never Forget

True to his word, Dean hadn’t returned to their room last night. Castiel expected that having the already snug bed to himself would be a luxury, but in reality he had a hard time falling asleep. He tried to tell himself it was because of the cheap quality of the inn’s mattress, but even he didn’t believe it.

As much as he hated to admit it, he had gotten used to sleeping next to a warm body the past couple of nights. 

To Castiel’s annoyance, Dean looked well-rested and even perky.

“I assume you won enough money to get your own lodgings last night?”

“I did win big, but I didn’t need to spend a single coin on another room. I got to stay in a special lady’s _lodging_ for free last night,” Dean said with a wink.

It took Castiel a minute to realize what Dean was insinuating, and felt annoyed at the other man’s crass behavior. Just because he wanted to save some money didn’t mean he had to debase himself or another for a free bed.

Not when there was already one provided for him.

“Let’s just get on with this case of yours,” Castiel grouched, sidestepping Dean and marching in the direction of their first victim’s house.

Dean beat Castiel to the door, giving a swift knock and a dazzling smile when a woman with light brown hair opened it. 

“Yes?” the woman questioned, suspicion in her brown eyes.

“Hello, Annette Doolittle? I’m Dean Winchester, Second Tier member of the Hunting Guild. This here is my companion, James Novak, from the Clerical Circle. We’re here because of the supernatural occurrence leading to your husband’s death.”

“Ex-husband,” Annette squeaked out. “W-we were getting a divorce, actually. We still respected and cared deeply for each other, but we weren’t a good match.”

Castiel frowned, unaware that humans could choose to separate from a mate. He had always thought they were monogamous until the other mate had perished.

Dean nodded in understanding. “Still, our greatest sympathies. Would you mind walking us through what happened?”

Annette nodded and opened the door wider. “Please, come in. I’d prefer to be sitting down when I talk about this.”

Annette directed them towards her kitchen and gestured for them to take a seat. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee or tea?”

Castiel was about to decline her offer, but Dean beat him to it. “Thank you. We’ll have whatever you were planning on making.”

Annette smiled in gratitude and put a teakettle over the open flame of her stove.

“Sometimes you need to just give them time to make themselves comfortable before you get into the nitty gritty,” Dean whispered as explanation. 

It did seem to help, as she gave them each a cup of tea, and tightly gripped her own cup. “Sorry, I’m usually a coffee drinker, but I’ve been having enough trouble falling asleep as it is.”

“Nightmares?” Castiel guessed.

Annette nodded. “Sometimes mine, sometimes Katie’s.”

“And Katie is your daughter?” Dean guessed. “How old is she?”

“She’s four.” 

Dean nodded. “Dragons usually only go after children who are under five.”

Annette almost dropped her cup. “God, I hope that’s not what Katie saw. Anything but one of them.”

Castiel felt his skin prickle in agitation. Why was there so much prejudice against his kind? And why this misguided notion that dragons feasted on young primates?

“So your daughter _did_ see something?” Dean pressed on.

“Only a brief flash of something. Whatever it was, it was big, gray, and scaley.”

“Like a dragon,” Dean pressed on.

“Dragons aren’t scaley. At least not all of them. Only their heads, limbs, and underbelly are coated in scales,” Castiel corrected.

“That’s enough scaley parts to count,” Dean argued. “Especially for things moving so fast. I’ve hunted them for years and I’ve only seen feathers on a freshly killed dragon.”

Castiel’s stomach dropped, wondering what other kin Dean and his “guild” had murdered in the past.

Meanwhile, Annette had her face buried in her hands. “No, not a dragon, anything but that.”

“Hey, hey.” Dean placed a hand over Annette’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, your family is in good hands. I’m not just a regular hunter. Second Tier means that I hunt dragons as well. I’ve already killed my fifth dragon, see?”

Dean grabbed something out of his pocket and put it on the table. When Castiel recognized what it was, he had to restrain himself from snarling at it.

On the table was a bracelet composed of the scales from his slaughtered kin.

They were shards of the under armour that must have flecked off after a manmade weapon ricocheted off them, and were the ghastly color of a deceased dragon. They were uneven, some ranging from the size of a fingernail, while others were the size of a pebble. All were cracked and looked like they were moments away from crumbling into dust.

Anna’s own scale, which Castiel wore hidden under his clothes as a necklace, was vibrant and thrumming with vitality in comparison.

The bracelet was gruesome enough to look at, but then he noticed that one of the scales was brighter than the rest. Although it was dim and grimy looking now, he could still make out the hint of a pearly shine.

Feeling sick, Castiel quickly got up from his chair, so fast that he knocked the seat clattering to the floor. 

Dean shot Cas an annoyed look, but it soon morphed into concern.

Concern that only made Castiel feel more nauseated.

Castiel tried to say that he needed a breath of fresh air, but all that came out was a pathetic whine. Not wanting to risk what else might come out of his mouth, Castiel quickly ran back to the front door and made use of the nearby hydrangeas.

Castiel tried to get his stomach under control, but all he could picture was Uriel in his last moments. The way he was coated in both red and blue blood, how he desperately tried to say something that no one could understand, and how scared and distraught his eyes were. 

The feeling of his warm blood seeping into Castiel’s forepaws, and how quickly his flesh turned ice cold once his last breath was wrested from his body.

The imagery just made it worse, until Castiel was left spitting bile out of his mouth. Stomach emptied of everything else, with energy just as drained, Castiel slumped against the wall of the house.

“Hey, you okay?”

Startled, Castiel banged his head against the back of the wall, whining further in pain. Dean yelped and moved closer towards his side, but stopped when Castiel gave him a threatening growl.

“Don’t, Dean,” he spat, unwilling to have the monster’s hands on him. Not after learning that Dean’s been carrying around his brother as a trophy.

By Eden, how had he never noticed before?

Dean held his hands up in surrender and took a step back. “You okay?”

“Do I look like I’m okay?” Castiel snapped. 

“Not at all. You sure you don’t want me to help—”

“No,” he snarled again. “Just leave me alone.”

“Do you need to go back to the inn? Should we stay here? What will—”

“What I need is for you to get out of my space!”

“Man, you are bitchy when sick. But fine, I’m backing off. Annette gave me a lead anyway. Apparently there’s been four missing kids in total. I picked up a pattern and it looks like the next place it’s going to hit is either the Doolittles again, or move onto the Braeden house next. She’s a single mother of a four year old, so a prime target.”

“Fine, then you stake out the Braeden house and I’ll stay here,” Castiel hissed. “And prove to you that it’s not a dragon involved in these kidnappings.”

“Hell, if the kids end up being alright, I’d be grateful if it was just a lower-class monster spiriting them away.” Dean toyed with the necklace around his neck. “Trust me, I don't want it to be a dragon.”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting. You seemed pretty excited about the idea of another dragon for you to kill.”

“No,” Dean growled. “I’m just pointing out that if it had to be a dragon case, at least I’m fucking here so it doesn’t get worse.”

Castiel waved him off in annoyance, not believing that Dean wasn’t hoping for another scale to add to his collection.

“You know what, fuck you and your sudden attitude issues. I’m going to go back to work,” Dean huffed before storming off the property.

Castiel was glad to see him go.


	15. Wardings

“Are you afraid of dragons, Mister? Is that why you keep telling Mommy that they’re not coming?” a tiny voice behind Castiel asked while he was busy carving a sigil into a nearby tree trunk.

Not daring to stop until the sigil was complete—all wardings were time-sensitive and had no margin for errors—Castiel continued to chisel the bizarre symbol and silently chant the prayers that went along with each stroke until it glowed with power.

Satisfied, Castiel turned around and noticed a little human girl, who barely reached his kneecap. Instead of looking back at Castiel, she was too busy gaping at the tree.

“Will it glow like that forever?” she asked, her fingers tracing a butchered version of the symbol in the air.

“No,” Castiel replied as he secured his knife back in the secret fold of his sleeves. It was obnoxious to get it in, but it was easy for him to slide the blade down in the middle of battle. An important feature considering his new human body did not come equipped with weapons like his original form did. “It should fade within the hour, but by then the magic will have reached through to its root system.”

“Are you going to make all of the trees glow?”

“I don’t have to. Anything the roots of the carved tree touches will also spread the protective magic, which means I don’t have to carve it into each individual tree. It acts like a good virus.”

“Huh?”

Castiel paused. “It’s like when one person gets sick, and slowly everyone else gets sick too.”

“Oh, like chicken pox. You gave the tree chicken pox?”

“No, but it’s just as effective.” Castiel looked down and calculated how far the tree’s root system must be, before moving onto a tree that would not be affected. “As for your other question, I’m not afraid of dragons. I just know that this isn’t their doing.”

“How do you know?”

Castiel once again didn’t respond until the sigil was finished and glowing. “All species have some sort of marker for their crimes. Humans, for example, leave traces of the tool that they used for their wrong doing behind, as well as DNA. Dragons leave behind scorch marks, claw marks, and either a shed scale or plumage. When I searched through the crime scene, I found no traces of that.”

“What if it was a sneaky dragon?”

“If it could avoid my detection, then it would have to be a high level dragon, and dragons of that caliber don’t waste their time on reckless murders,” Castiel declared, surveying the area for the next viable tree.

“You say a lot of big words, mister,” the little girl scoffed.

“I know much bigger, trust me.”

“So if you don’t think it was a dragon, then what killed Daddy?”

“I’m not 100% positive,” Castiel admitted, walking diagonally across the yard to get to the next tree. “But one of my theories is changelings. They are Fae creatures that kidnap children and replace them with one of their own that feed off the parents. It’s common for them to kill a parent that sees them trying to make a switch.”

“What happens if a changeling got me?”

“They’d keep you alive for a couple of weeks so that the mother of the nest could feed on you, and then once her young drained your mother of her life essence, then she’d drain you as well,” Castiel factually stated.

It wasn’t until he carved two more trees in complete silence that Castiel realized that something was off about the little human. Turning around, he saw her three trees back with her arms around her chest, hugging herself close.

“Katie?” He abandoned his post to go back to her.

“A-am I going to die?” Her face was pale and her cheeks were wet. “Is Mommy going to? I don’t want any of us to die. Daddy screamed so loud and he was so scared.”

On closer inspection, he could see that she was shivering as well. No youth deserved this. Without another thought, Castiel knelt down to pull the child into his arms, and wrapped her up with his pseudo-wings—his cloak—and gripped her tight.

“Katie, I promise you. I am doing everything in my power to keep both you and your mother safe. I swear, I won’t rest until I kill the monster that took your father away from you too soon. I won’t let it hurt anyone else again.”

Castiel held onto her until she stopped shaking, but even when he let go she remained wrapped in his cloak. “Do you want to go back inside with your mother?”

Katie shook her head. “No. I wanna watch you protect the house.”

“Alright then, but it will take another hour for the warding to be finished outside. Then I’ll ward the entrance, just to be extra cautious. This way, if anything sneaks past the outside barriers, it won’t be able to get in.”

“Does it keep out all monsters?”

“Not all species,” Castiel admitted. Dragons, for example, weren’t warded against, or else he would be sapping his own energy everytime he was inside the premises. “But it will shield you from the worst, or anyone who wishes ill intent.”

“Huh?”

“If someone wants to cause you harm, they won’t be able to step foot on your property. Humans included.”

“Neat!”

“It is, though it is very important that I finish all of these wards before sundown, so I need to get back to work.”

The girl was quiet for the rest of the outing, finally speaking up again when the last tree was carved. “Is your partner coming back?”

“No.” Castiel fought to keep his voice even. “Dean is busy protecting the Braedens’ house like I’m protecting yours.”

Katie smiled at that. “Good. I like Ben. He’s nice to me and always shares his snacks. I don’t want him to be eaten.”

“And if he didn’t share his snacks?”

Katie shrugged. “I guess it would still be bad if he died. But I don’t know if I would be that sad.”

Humans were strange creatures with strange logic.

“Well regardless of snack-sharing abilities, Ben and the rest of the children in this neighborhood will be safe. Now come on, I’ll show you how to keep the inside warded.”

“Are you going to have to carve into the doors? Because Mommy is not going to be happy if you do that.”

“No carving necessary. Although, I will need to use blood markings to keep everything safe.”

“Eww! Mommy’s _really_ not going to like that!”

Annette Doolittle did scream once she saw his handiwork, but Castiel had faith that in due time she would appreciate the hard work that went into her family’s protection.


	16. Midnight Intruder

Despite being a heavy sleeper, Castiel woke up the moment he felt one of the wards break outside. Whatever was out there was powerful, and intelligent enough to counteract his arcane sigils. 

For a moment, Castiel feared whether or not he would be able to challenge this foe in his current shape. Then he reminded himself that even normal humans were not to be trifled with and had been able to take down dragons for centuries. A dragon inside of a human body was not to be underestimated.

Carefully sliding out of bed, Castiel retrieved his special blade from underneath his pillow, his boots from under the bed, and the cloak that was on the dresser. Instead of hiding his blade back up his sleeve, he kept it clutched in his right hand while his left crackled with magic. It made Castiel smile to know that even in this shape he still had his claws and fire at his disposal.

As he snuck under the cover of darkness, Castiel cursed his human eyes for not possessing night vision, and cursed the fact that he could not use any of his light magic without the risk of immediately painting himself as a target. His only chance of sneaking up on the monster was to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. 

It seemed like his opponent had similar thoughts.

Crouched behind a tree, Castiel tried to survey the area, but couldn’t distinguish any of the dark shapes in the distance. Every tree and shrub could be his enemy in hiding. It didn’t even make a sound, but Castiel knew it was there. Just like it knew he was there.

But unlike Castiel, it could see him.

The only warning he got was some rustling in a tree over a yard away, before the back of his head was slammed hard into the ground. 

He’d heard Dean use the expression of “seeing stars” before, but he never understood the meaning until the shockwave from the ground made his nerves send out electrical impulses that filled his mind with bright flashes. 

Those flashes were disorientating enough that he didn’t notice his assailant get closer until he felt a familiar shaped claw pressed against his jugular. 

Gasping, he reached out his left hand to the creature’s paw and projected loudly.

_“By the light of Eden, stand down. Can you not recognize your own kin?”_

Usually Castiel would need to speak aloud, but maintaining physical contact on the other dragon had allowed him to speak telekinetically.

Fortunately, since Castiel was afraid that any unexpected movement could lacerate his throat. 

_/Kin? You are looking rather humanlike for one of us. Your name?/_ The voice inside his head was so loud at this distance that it made him cringe in pain and wonder if it was possible for his eardrums to burst when the noise wasn’t being filtered by them.

_“Castiel, Sixth Son of the great King Elyon, first and last of His name.”_

_/Castiel? What is a prince doing here and looking like… like a mudmonkey?/_ Hearing the dragon talk more, Castiel realized that the speaker was a dragoness.

_“I’m on an important recon mission for the King. Now, what are you doing here, and why did you break through my wards?”_

_/Your wards? That does explain the level of complexity behind them,/_ the dragoness noted. _/As for why I’m here, I am also here on a mission from his Majesty./_

_“Really? Is he after the monster that is kidnapping the children?”_

_/Monster?/_

_“Yes, that’s why I have the wards set up and why I’m stationed here. My thoughts are that there is a changeling in this area that is kidnapping children, and killing their parents.”_

The dragoness’ gray eyes blinked down at him. _/What do you plan to do with the monster?/_

Castiel narrowed his eyes. _“Kill them, of course. These are human kits, no one should be hurting them in any way!”_

_/So you mean to protect them?/_

_“With my last breath,”_ he declared, though he wasn’t sure why. It was dramatic and something he could see Dean saying more than himself. But nevertheless it felt right.

_/Oh, my poor dear,/_ the dragoness cooed. _/You are even more idealistic than that foolish brother of yours./_

Castiel stiffened. _“What do you—”_

Castiel’s head was pushed further into the ground as the dragoness’ other paw pinned it in place. 

_/Shhh, don’t struggle. It will only make the pain that much worse,/_ she warned, before removing the claw on his throat and placing the long digit across his mouth; effectively silencing his scream of pain as two other retracted claws extended and pierced through his skull.

_/Shhh, shhhhh. I promise. This will all be over soon. When you wake up, it will be as if none of this ever happened./_

The dragon’s eyes glowed as she called upon her Blessing and used her magic. From the glow he could make out the chestnut color of her scales, but she was not a dragoness Castiel had seen before.

_“W-who are you?”_

_/One of your father’s most trusted. Now I promise you; I’ll make this right./_


	17. Changes

Castiel woke up to the sunlight burning against his eyes and the feeling like his cranial cavity had been stuffed with stones. Instinctively, his wings stretched out to brush against his partner, only to be met with confusion when Castiel realized he had neither wings nor a slumbering companion next to him. Blinking away sleep, all Castiel could see were a pile of sheets on a bed that felt too big, and a knotted feeling in his gut that informed him that something was amiss.

Looking down, he noticed that he was still in his “day” clothes, including his cloak. Strange, since he made a habit of stripping down every night to change into his sleepwear, despite how weird the human custom seemed to be.

Focusing closely on noise, he could make out the sound of human voices below him, and wondered if Dean was amongst their number. Surely they must be at some human inn and the noise below was the sound of other guests partaking in the morning meal.

Castiel was positive that the heavy feeling in his head as well as the slight confusion would fade once he was downstairs with Dean again.

He was disappointed that there was no Dean downstairs, but instead two human dames and a human kit.

“Where’s Dean?” he demanded, his voice hoarse, and even rougher than usual.

Dean usually made jokes about his voice sounding like he gargled with rocks, but for once he felt like he actually did.

“He went to go take care of the horses,” the woman with dark brown hair answered, before letting out a gasp when she saw him. “Are you alright?”

Castiel wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“You poor thing,” the lighter brunette cooed, which for some reason made Castiel’s skin crawl. “I was worried about you before when you got sick in the bushes yesterday, but you looked like you were doing better. Should have known you were coming down with something.”

Castiel stared at the woman, trying to place her, what her name was and why she looked familiar.

“You should sit down, mister,” the young human said, gesturing to her own seat, “and have some tea. Mommy says tea makes you feel better.”

“That’s right, Katie,” Annette—yes, that was her name—said as she got out of her chair to brew a fresh cup for Castiel. “Though maybe you should go back upstairs once you’re done. You don’t look like you are in any condition to go back outside, and I’m sure Dean is qualified to check for you.”

“Outside?” Castiel croaked. He could barely remember what was inside.

“To check on those tree carvings you made yesterday,” Annette gently reminded.

Carvings? “You mean wards?”

If he had to make wards, and a great sum of them, then that must mean that they were on a mission.

Yes, that’s right, Dean had found them additional work to do in Cicero, and they had separated because…

Because Dean was a monster.

Castiel let out a low growl. “I’m not an invalid, and I don’t need his help for something as minor as ward checking.”

He stomped off without his cup of tea; he didn’t need human hospitality after all. Who knows, maybe whatever they had fed him the previous day was the reason for him feeling so sick.

It was unfortunate that he had also expended a great quantity of energy to create all those wards, which had further weakened him.

However, even in a weakened state, he was still able to sense that something was off with his wards.

“What’s going on?” Katie asked, hopping along after him as she struggled to put on her boots properly.

“Something malicious got close to the borders, but I can’t tell whether or not it got in,” Castiel rasped, before finally looking at her. “And you should be back inside. I don’t know if whatever tried to get in is still out there.”

“I thought monsters could only come out at night?”

“Most _prefer_ to hunt at night. Doesn’t mean that they can’t be diurnal too.”

Castiel crept closer towards the area where he felt the most thinning of the magic. He felt little surprise to see a giant hole through the tree, splintering the sigil. It looked like the monster had tried to get in, but hadn’t expected the level of security around the home and had given up before going much further.

Smart move—it must have realized that whatever was on the other side of the wardings was a foe not to be trifled with. Which meant that it most likely went to find an easier hunting ground.

Hopefully the hunter was competent enough to keep his charges safe. Then again, wasn’t the neighbor supposed to have a son? Castiel had to assume the darker brunette was Ms. Braeden, since she was aware of Dean’s whereabouts.

“Shouldn’t Ms. Braeden’s child be with her?” Castiel called out to Katie, who had at least obeyed Castiel’s wishes and remained in the center of the warding.

“Ben? Yeah, he’s out with Mr. Dean. Said he wanted to see the horsies.”

At least the child was alive.

Though Castiel frowned, wondering if the boy in Dean’s company was actually a boy at all.

Castiel continued to survey the landscape before taking note of the red dust covering the ground a short distance away. It almost looked like a footprint, and whoever it belonged to, it seemed that they had moved towards the west.

“Katie? Which direction is Ben’s house?”

“Umm...” The little girl paused for a second, raised her index finger, and then slowly circled until she pointed towards the west. “That way.”

Just as he feared.

“Katie, go back inside with your mother. I’m going over to Ben’s house to see if Dean made his warding strong enough.”

Castiel followed the red footprints easily to the neighbor’s house, irritated the whole way that his human nose was lacking in the ability of scent. His real nose would be able to tell what type of humanoid creature this monster was, whether it be fae or some creature of the night.

He was contemplating over what the red dust was, and what area it came from, when he collided nose-first into an invisible barrier.

Cursing and holding his delicate nose in place with one hand, Castiel used his free hand to slowly feel around the force field that surrounded the area. It made his skin tingle uncomfortably, like he was being shocked by tiny volts of electricity. Nothing but a bother for now, but could lead to something harmful the longer he was exposed to it.

Castiel then cursed louder, realizing what the idiot hunter did.

Dean had made a ward against dragons, but based on the red footprints that were already inside of the barrier, it was only successful at keeping out dragons.

“I told him he was blinded by his stupid biases,” Castiel growled, angrily tugging at a strand of his hair.

If whatever was outside came in, then there was a good chance that the real Ben was already gone.

And Dean was the next target.

Growling his frustration, Castiel lumbered in the direction of the stables, cursing whatever strange malady that befell him. What should have been a fifteen minute walk took him almost an hour. By the time Castiel made it through the stables, he was panting and sweating like he had run for miles instead of taking a brisk walk for a couple of blocks.

Even exhausted, Castiel could recognize the sounds of Gadreel’s disgruntled neighs.

Moving closer, Castiel saw that Dean stood protectively in front of a small boy, arms held out in front of him to try to ease the Clydesdale that was angrily pawing on the floor.

_/I don’t know what you are, but you have no right to be within my sights,/_ Gadreel screamed. _/Begone, you unholy creature./_

For a moment, Castiel wasn’t sure who Gadreel was talking to until his vision went double and he saw the real shape of the creature pretending to be Ben.

“Dean, he’s not a real child! He’s a changeling!” Castiel cried out as best as he could with his abused vocals.

Dean froze momentarily before he grabbed the kid around the shoulders, and pinned him to the closest wall.

“Dean?” the pretender sobbed, but there was something off about his voice. It’s speech pattern was too formal for a child, with no true emotion backing what should have been a terrifying moment.

“Shit,” Dean whispered, realizing what exactly he had in his hands.

The changeling came to the same conclusion and retaliated with a sudden kick to Dean’s groin.

Dean groaned in pain, hunching over as if to get his bearings. The changeling skittered around him, trying to break away to freedom, but Gadreel was waiting for him.

Gadreel reared up to his hindlegs, then swiftly struck the changeling down with his front hooves. Hooves that had been coated with pure iron.

The changeling roared in pain as the two-ton creature crushed it with metal shoes that were made out of a material that scorched through its flesh.

It struggled in vain against Gadreel’s massive weight, eventually shredding its disguise altogether to reveal the corpse-like creature it truly was.

“Thank fuck,” Dean mumbled. “Was worried for a second that was a real kid under Zeke.”

Gadreel snorted in annoyance. _/I would never harm a human kit like that./_

“You did good, boy. Now let me finish this.” Dean tapped Gadreel on the shoulders and the horse reluctantly released the changeling.

Before the changeling had a chance to get back on its feet, Dean already had an iron dagger removed from his belt and plunged into the creature’s heart cavity. The changeling cried out in pain, blocking out whatever words Dean was muttering. It took Castiel a moment to realize it was an incantation, and within the blink of an eye the changeling was set ablaze.

Dean quickly ducked out of the way, leaving the knife buried inside of the creature, his face twisted in a grimace. “I liked that knife.”

“I’m sure you can get it ba—”

Castiel’s words were cut off as the creature exploded before them, leaving nothing behind but dust.

“I’m not the best with fire spells,” Dean said with an embarrassed shrug. “They always turn into mini explosions instead.”

“That does explain why you always have me make the campfires,” Castiel acknowledged, wiping a hand across his still sweaty brow. The sudden heat from the fire did not help with Castiel's feverish state.

“That and it’s the only thing you can do without supervision,” Dean pointed out, before frowning. “Hey, Jimmy, are you feeling okay?”

Castiel ignored him, focusing instead on the pile of ashes, trying to remember what he knew about the myths of changelings. “That was too easy.”

“Huh?”

“That fight was too easy. That couldn’t have been the Mother Changeling, just one of her spawn.” Castiel frowned before continuing, “Which means she’s probably felt us kill one of her children and will be even more hostile when we run into her.”

“Great, so we better get the jump on her before she has the time to get the jump on us,” Dean groaned. “Any clues as to where she might be, oh great detective?”

“I have an idea, but first, do you know any places around this area that have red dust?”


	18. Don't Pull The Threads

The source of the red dust was from an area of construction nearby. Somewhere not close enough to walk to, so both men were back on their horses.

Castiel had never been so grateful to be on Gadreel’s back.

 _/Please don’t vomit in my hair,/_ Gadreel pleaded. _/Twigs and dirt are already a nightmare to get out. I don’t want to know how long it takes to get out bile./_

“I’m not going to vomit, but if I did, then I would at least try to aim on the ground.”

_/There is no discussion of **‘trying.’** You will either aim for the ground, or I will buck you off onto said ground!/_

Castiel chuckled, resting his sweaty forehead against Gadreel’s furry neck. He never noticed how soft his fur was before. Even softer than velvet. “It’s good to know where your priorities lie.”

_/I doubt you would think differently if our fortunes were reversed./_

“That’s because I know you’d aim for me on purpose.”

Gadreel’s lack of response only made him laugh harder.

“You okay there, Jimbo?”

It took Castiel a moment to realize that the speaker was Dean, who was riding alongside him on Baby, and eyeing him with concern. Castile tried to lift his head back up, but gravity decided to push it back down.

“My head feels like it’s made out of lead. And I’m all sweaty,” he bemoaned.

“You’re looking pretty feverish. Hell, you’re even talking to Zeke as if he’s talking back to you.”

Castiel snickered helplessly. “Shhh, Dean’s onto us. We have to be more careful.”

 _/He can only hear_ you _, you imbecile,/_ Gadreel responded dryly. _/Your only saving grace is that he thinks you’ve already lost all your senses./_

“What?” Castiel looked back over at Dean. “Do you think I’m crazy? Not that the horse told me that or anything. Because horses can’t talk.”

“I might have to agree with Zeke, there. You are acting completely loony.” Dean’s green and hazel eyes looked concerned.

Castiel had never seen eyes filled with genuine compassion and concern over someone they weren’t bonded to. Those were the eyes of someone who loved deeply and gave freely.

Not the eyes of a soulless killer.

“I really like your eyes,” Castiel confessed. “They remind me of the forest. Of leaves changing colors in the bridge between summer and autumn. Caught between green and gold.”

“Thanks, bud? I, um...” Dean shifted nervously in his saddle. “I really like your eyes too. They’re really blue.”

“Sapphire, actually.”

“It’s still blue. I don’t need to know all the fancy names.”

Castiel continued to study Dean, for once openly drinking in his appearance in the daylight where he could fully appreciate him.

“Shit, I should not be taking you with me. You’re going to get yourself killed out here.”

“I’ll be fine.” Castiel lazily waved his concern off, accidentally slapping Gadreel on a deltoid. He’d probably deal with consequences from that later. “Even sick, I can still heal. Can still make fire as well.”

“Let’s not. Last thing we need is for you to spontaneously combust.”

“Speaking of, did you know hay can spontaneously combust?”

“Seriously, Jimmy. What kind of feverish high are you on?”

“I’m being factual. Hay can spontaneously combust if it gets wet and improperly stored. You see, the microbes found in the hay get agitated when wet, and they vibrate so fast that they generate enough friction to set the hay aflame.”

“I’ll take your word for it when you're back to a normal body temperature. Just promise me that when we get to the construction site, you’ll stay out of the way and keep yourself safe.”

“You do care about me, don’t you?” Castiel gasped, slowly raising his head. “Zeke was right!”

_/I usually am./_

“See, it’s that kind of crazy talk that is getting your ass benched,” Dean said.

“This is nothing. You should have seen me at the battle at the Gates of Eden. Every one of my seven limbs was injured in some capacity, but I still managed to fight against a horde of Wyrms.”

“Sure, I believe you there, Jimmy.” Dean rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in his smile.

“In addition, I think the honor and glory of this case should belong to me. I was the one who guessed it was a changeling. You were so convinced that it was dragons that you only—”

“I only set up a ward against dragons. Shit. Fuck! No wonder that monster snatched up Ben.”

“I thought you knew?” Castiel frowned, not appreciating that Dean’s original distress was intensifying.

“I was kinda preoccupied with the idea of getting him back and making sure that you weren’t going to fall off your damn horse,” Dean snapped. “Shit, that kid’s blood is on my hands. There’s no way that thing isn’t going to have drained some of his life essence. Fuck, she might have taken fifty years off of him by now.”

“That’s not how life essence works,” Castiel yawned sleepily. “It’s more like the spiritual component of blood. Not good to lose all at once, but the body will slowly rebuild it over time. As long as we get to him before tomorrow, he will be just fine and live his natural lifespan.”

Dean didn’t seem convinced.

“Trust me,” Castiel murmured, burying his face closer into his velvet pillow. “I wasn’t wrong about it being a changeling, and I’m not wrong about how much time Ben has left.”

“Yeah, I guess I should be trusting you more.”

Castiel hummed, keeping his eyes closed. It wasn’t like Gadreel needed Castiel to pay attention. He knew where they were going better than Castiel did.

“Just promise me you won’t fall off of your horse, okay?”

“As long as you promise to wake me up when we get there.”

Castiel should have stayed awake long enough to verify the promise. Instead, he woke up with an aching back, the sun in a different position, and no other human in sight.

“Where’s Dean?” Castiel demanded, jolting up so fast he almost slid out of his saddle.

_/I see you are as pleasant when you wake up as you are typically./_

“I don’t have time for this, Zeke! Where is Dean? I know you must have kept a close eye as to where he was headed.”

 _/Since when do you call me… Nevermind, there’s no point in asking for logic from those who have none. If you want to go rushing in with no plan, then be my guest./_ Gadreel lifted his head and gestured towards the gated area in front of them. _/He scaled over that, then from the sounds of it he walked northeast for five minutes, and then disappeared down steps. He’s been in that location for thirty minutes, but I haven’t heard any loud screams, so I assume your human is alright./_

“He’s not my human,” Castiel grumbled, slowly edging himself out of the saddle so that he wouldn’t land flat on his face. He ended up on his ass, but it was still better than the alternative. “And I don’t have time for your prattle. I need to figure out a way over this blasted gate.”

The gate was at least ten feet tall. Usually something that wouldn’t be too hard to scale over, considering his natural dexterity, but an arduous task when the world kept flickering in and out of focus.

_/Perhaps you should listen to the human and stay behind./_

“No,” Castiel growled. “My mission is to stay close to Dean and gain his trust. I must—”

_/You already have his trust. You’ll risk losing it if you needlessly endanger yourself for a mission he can handle on his own./_

“But I’m a mighty dragon,” Castiel cried out, growing more frustrated as he felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. “I’m easily bigger than this stupid gate, been alive longer than most human civilizations existed, and have the strength to crumble mountains. I should not be this—this weak and _pathetic_!”

Gadreel looked at Castiel with pity, further fueling his rage.

“I don’t need pity from a horse!”

 _/It’s strange,/_ Gadreel noted, shaking out his mane. _/You would think that after being something as colossal as a dragon, that I would find this new body confining. But I’ve found that I quite enjoy it. Unlike my true form, this one was made for running. For being at home on the ground. It wasn’t designed for the sky, so I feel no longing for it like I used to. In this shape, I am unbutchered and I don’t carry the burden that my phantom wings left behind. It’s oddly freeing./_

“Not all of us got an upgrade,” Castiel hissed.

 _/You still have the power to return to what you are,/_ Gadreel reminded. _/The only requirement is that you aren’t rash with your transformation, and that you take time between shifts./_

“I’d rather not deal with the pain of shifting unless I have to. Especially not at the current moment,” Castiel grumbled.

It hurt enough compacting his body into this size. He didn’t imagine stretching his proportions out, and adding additional organs and limbs on top of it, was going to be any more pleasant.

_/I wouldn’t suggest shifting currently. Not after the Informant has seen you./_

Castiel stiffened. “What?”

_/You didn’t notice? Her scent is all over you, and you keep rubbing your head at the entrance points./_

“What?”

Gadreel shook his head. _/If you don’t know about it, then it’s for the best that I don’t say anything./_

“Gadreel—”

_/No, not until we can be sure that they can’t hear any of this./_

“What?” Castiel glared at the horse. “I don’t know what you are talking about, but this conversation is far from over.”

Gadreel’s ear twitched. _/But it should be put on hold. I hear two sets of footsteps coming this way. I believe Dean has found the missing child./_

Castiel frowned. There had been at least half a dozen kids missing before Ben’s disappearance. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on that before he heard a shout.

“Hey, Jimmy, you up? I need your help getting Ben onto the other side of the fence.”

Not wasting a moment, Castiel quickly followed the sound of a kid scrambling up a fence, and held his hands up to prevent the child from falling. Moments later, Dean dropped down beside him.

Castiel didn’t need to ask Dean if he found any signs of the other children. The haunted gaze was enough.

“Is it done?”

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah. That monster can’t hurt anybody else.”

Castiel looked down at the pale and trembling child that Dean had rescued, and realized something.

“You only hunt monsters?”

Dean stared at Castiel in confusion. “Yeah? Seriously, Jimmy. We need to get you back in a bed fast.”

“Yes, but… those dragons you killed?”

“Were monsters.” Dean frowned, reaching a hand in his pocket. “Every last one of them killed someone innocent. Children that I failed to protect.”

Castiel’s stomach rolled again, and he could feel his body grow heavy.

“But—”

But dragons don’t kill the defenseless.

But Uriel was one of those kills.

But—

 _/Don’t pull the threads,/_ Gadreel warned as Castiel’s vision slowly started to fade in and out. _/Not when they can still be in your head./_

But who was in his head?

He shouldn’t have, but he pulled and everything went dark.


	19. Unraveling

Castiel felt like he was falling. Not the pleasant thrill of freefalling, of knowing that at any moment he could snap open his wings and fly away into the clouds. It was the feeling of horror and dread, of knowing that the only thing waiting for him was a painful death.

He tried to claw or cling to anything, but there was nothing but shadows around him. Nothing tangible to hold onto.

But he wasn’t alone.

There were voices all around him.

Some were whispers—too faint for him to hear **—** while others were loud screams.

All of them were jumbled and trying to talk over one another, making Castiel’s head pound as he tried to listen close.

_/How long has this been going on?/_

_**/Long before their species could even speak. It’s the way things always have been. It’s how it needs to be./** _

/This is wrong and you know it!/

_**/This is what is keeping us from the brink of extinction!/** _

/What you are doing is altering the very fabric of history!/

Castiel tried to hear more about their conversation, but another broke in.

_**/No need to look so afraid, my son. This is what the humans have prayed for. They wanted an angel of death and I am providing it to them./** _

/What you want to do will kill all of them! Even the Hebrews!/

_**/Only their first-born children. But worry not, it will lighten the load on their long journey./** _

/You call yourself a god to them, but all I see is… is a monster!/

_**/Castiel, stop—/** _

Castiel froze at the sound of his name, but the rest of the words were lost in favor of another conversation.

_/I can’t do this anymore, Father!/_

_**/I thought you wanted this. An excuse to play monkey and make those awful sounds./** _

/It’s called music and I know what you did. You used magic on that pipe to entrance those kids, and now they are all gone!/

_**/They killed our kits!/** _

/With poison meant for the rats! What you did… what you are making us all do, is wrong. You keep saying that you do what you need to do to keep everybody safe, but I think you just do it because you like the power!/

_**/Gabriel, either you stop this nonsense at once or else—/** _

Gabriel! The brother that Castiel never met, and who was slain by humans. What was his voice doing in Castiel’s head?

The voices started to change again, but Castiel struggled to return to the previous conversation.

“Gabriel!” he cried out, as if he could summon the voice.

_**/Castiel, what are you doing here? You should know better than to be too nosy./** _

Castiel ignored the voice, looking around desperately instead. As if the shadows would pull aside like curtains and reveal his brother to him.

_/Don’t pull the threads,/_ a familiar voice reminded him.

But Castiel had to know what was on the other side. He reached out a paw—or was it a hand at this point? It was too dark to tell—and pulled.

Castiel wailed in pain as it felt like claws were digging into his brain, scraping across his mind to rearrange everything that was inside.

_/Don’t pull./_

Despite the agony, he tugged harder. Trying to rip the threads from their very roots.

What he was met with was a bright flash of white light, followed by green and gold.

“It’s going to be okay, Jimmy,” the green and gold blur whispered. “Lisa is on her way to town to get you some medicine, and put in a request for a healer.”

“H-healer?” Castiel’s tongue felt like it had been replaced with hay.

“Yeah. Shit, Jimmy. Whatever made you sick got you bad. Hell, I’m starting to think you might have been cursed or something.”

The blur slowly focused, and Castiel smiled when he recognized the shape. “Dean.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah. It’s me, bud.”

“I pulled the threads, Dean. Zeke told me not to do it, but I did it anyway. I pulled and I pulled,” Castiel exclaimed, trying to sit up.

“Shhh. I need you to calm down and rest some more. Okay?” Dean gently nudged Castiel back down.

“I need… I need to find Gabriel. I heard him in there.”

“You’ll find him,” Dean assured, before placing something heavenly against Castiel’s head. Castiel sighed in relief and Dean smiled. “Yeah, nothing beats a cold rag on your forehead when you have a fever. You know, besides real medicine.”

“Just don’t use leeches on me,” Castiel grumbled, making Dean laugh again.

“I’m pretty sure they stopped that a couple of centuries ago. People tend to use willow’s bark for fevers, you know. Shops even sell them in neat powders now.”

Castiel hummed in relief, glad to know that human medicine was progressing from pseudoscience, or from relying on magic to cure everything.

“Shit, I should probably get some water for you as well. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave,” Castiel begged. “Please, stay with me.”

“I won’t be gone long,” Dean swore, but the moment he got up, Castiel’s vision began to fade.

“Don’t go. I need you!” Only he was speaking back into the shadows.

_/You need him? How unexpected, but that can be arranged./_

Castiel flinched at the new voice, but realized that the shadows were abating, revealing his den.

_/What?/_ Castiel tried to say, but the words didn’t come out of his mouth right. He then realized his mouth wasn’t short and squat like a human’s mouth was, but the long and pointed shape of a dragon’s muzzle.

Looking down, he saw the familiar appearance of his sapphire and ebony scales and plumage.

He had missed the way his colors had blended and overlapped together; like the sky as it shifted from the twilight to night.

Confused, he carefully lifted his left wing, then his right, before flaring them wide.

“Your wings are beautiful.”

Startled, Castiel looked down and saw Dean sitting on the outside edge of his nest.

It was disorienting to look so far down to Dean for once, and even stranger to see him in his den.

Strange, but it also felt right.

_/Dean? What are you doing here?/_

Dean ignored his question, too busy gawking at Castiel’s wings. “Is your right one alright? It’s looking a little frumpy.”

_/Huh?/_ Castiel twisted his head, noticing that some of the feathers were twisted, and needed to come out. _/It’s fine. It just needs to be groomed./_

“I can help you with that,” Dean said with a smile. “I have enough experience with grooming the horses.”

Castiel’s ears folded back and his feathers ruffled in annoyance. _/I’m not a horse, Dean./_

“I’m not saying you are,” Dean laughed, though something sounded off about it. “And trust me, there’s no way I can mistake you. You’re a dragon. You’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

Castiel’s ears perked up and his wings fluffed in pride, and he could feel his cheeks grow warm. Interesting. He wasn’t aware that he could blush in this form. But then, there was nothing that really could make him feel embarrassed before.

No one had been able to reduce him to a pile of emotion.

Dean took Castiel’s lack of response as permission to go ahead and start grooming him. Castiel shuddered in pleasure as Dean’s nimble fingers smoothed out the stray feathers, each touch lingering and sensual, and pulled out a jovial purr from Castiel’s chest. The human quickly learned how to play him like an instrument, each stroke and scratch resulting in a different purr pitch.

“There, I think that’s the last twisted feather. How do you feel?”

In answer, Castiel rested his giant head against Dean’s shoulder, slowly breathing in the man’s scent. He smelt like creeks and campfires and sweets and everything that made Castiel want to wrap his wings around him and never let go.

He didn’t realize how much he needed this moment until Dean rested his own head against Castiel’s.

_/We can’t do that you know,/_ a dragoness’ voice whispered into his mind.

The purring stopped, as feathers and scales puffed up in preparation for an attack. The sight of the dragoness and her familiar yet foreign brown scales also put him on edge. How can something be both?

_/Relax, Castiel, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here because his Majesty wants to talk to you. We have some...concerns about how your mission is progressing./_

_/My mission is going just fine,/_ Castiel snapped, maneuvering his head and neck so that Dean was safely nestled against him.

_/Your mission is compromised! Or are you so delusional that you cannot see the way you’re debasing yourself for that miscreant? Your scent is all over him./_

Not just any scent, a claim scent.

Castiel’s ears folded all the way down to his skull in shame. He didn’t know why he was reacting the way he did around Dean; the only thing he knew for certain was that every instinct he had was screaming at him that this man was _his_ to protect.

_/It’s alright, Castiel. We know it’s not your fault. We know you’ve questioned it as well, and we want to help you undo the thrall he has you under./_

Castiel tensed. _/What will you do to Dean?/_

The dragonessed scoffed, _/Do you even hear yourself? This hunter is your target. You’ve done well to befriend him, but you keep forgetting that the only way this mission ends is with his blood on your claws./_

_/No,/_ Castiel shuddered. _/There’s got to be another way around this. I can incapacitate him without killing him!/_

_/Then prove it. All you have to do is step away from him./_

Castiel hesitated for a moment before slowly unwrapping himself from the human.

“Castiel?” Dean asked, dazed. It sent shivers down his spine for Dean to finally speak his real name.

Castiel paused.

Dean knew his real name. He knew his true name, was comfortable around his true form, and was in his den.

None of that could be possible.

Dean still thought he was Jimmy, and they should still be stuck in the middle of nowhere, Indiana.

_/None of this is real, is it? You’re both figments of my imagination, aren’t you?/_

_/I don’t know,/_ the dragoness responded cooly. _/I suppose you’ll just have to decide whether or not this feels real./_

The dragoness pounced upon Dean with sharp claws extended.

Castiel lunged for her and tried to whip her away with his tail, but he was too late.

He saw the flicker of terror in Dean’s eyes as he raised his hand towards the red ribbons now adorning his throat. Ribbons that started out delicate and thin, but steadily grew thicker. By the time Dean’s hand was at his throat, the ribbons had become torrents of blood.

_/Dean!/_ Castiel reached for the man, but what he grabbed was practically a corpse. The man’s life essence had already drained away. _/No… no. Nonono./_

Castiel cradled the body closer to him. He tried to tell himself that this was all fake, but he could feel the warmth and stickiness of Dean’s blood; his nostrils were flooded with the horrible iron stench, and he felt it when Dean’s heart struggled out its final beat.

Castiel swiveled his long neck and hissed at the dragoness, _/What did you do?/_

_/What had to be done. Look at yourself, Castiel. Utterly pathetic./_

_/You killed him! The only one who had any right to his life was me!/_

_/Can I really kill something that never even existed?/_

_/Wha—/_ The corpse of his friend disappeared from his grasp, leaving no trace that he had ever been there. Even the stains from where his blood spilt were miraculously gone.

_/I’ve said it before; that hunter takes away all sense and logic from you. You question if he was real one moment, and then blubber over him the next./_

Castiel glared. _/What do you want from me?/_

_/For you to stop galavanting around, and to take your responsibilities seriously. Or would you want your brother Raphael to take your place?/_

_/Raphael has his own projects./_

_/None as important as saving our species. Unless you’ve forgotten that that’s what’s on the line./_

_/I haven’t forgotten,/_ Castiel growled. _/But Dean is barely older than a fletchling. Hunting was instilled in him since childhood, and he doesn’t know any better! We shouldn’t—/_

_/He killed your brother, and it’s his kind that are responsible for your other brother’s disappearance./_

Castiel had no good excuse for that. _/I was thinking about turning him into—/_

_/Ugh, your preposterous horse theory? We all know that won’t work out well. Even humans retain their past memories, and you’ll only waste our resources by turning him into one of the beasts. He’d find a cliff to jump off of as soon as your back is turned./_

Castiel closed his eyes, not liking the high probability of that statement.

Dean was a wild and reckless soul. He would find issue in Castiel trying to take care of him in that form.

Dean would have an issue in knowing what Castiel was.

_/Castiel, I can help you. If you let me, I can get rid of the hold that Dean has over you,/_ the dragoness cooed, moving closer to Castiel until their tails were practically entwined _. /All I need is for you to let me in deeper./_

Castiel’s tail twitched out of the dragoness’ grasp, thumping angrily against the floor as an answer.

_/I swear, you won’t even know I’ve been there. It will be like none of this ever happened./_

Don’t pull the threads while she’s still in there.

_/Get out,/_ Castiel snarled. _/Get out of my head!/_

_/Now, Castiel—/_

_/I need you to leave!/_ Castiel roared even louder, before lunging for her throat like she did to Dean.


	20. A Path To Choose

“Ack! Jimmy! Not the face!”

Castiel blinked away sleep, seeing that Dean’s very alive face was cupped tightly in Jimmy’s hands. _Hands_ , not paws.

“Dean?” Castiel breathed, his voice garbled from sleep and fever.

“Hey, sunshine. Welcome back to the real world. I’d ask if you enjoyed your nap, but I’m guessing by your screams earlier that it was more of a nightmare.”

“You could say that,” Castiel agreed, making no effort to remove his hands from Dean’s face.

“You’re looking a little less feverish, so we might not need a healer after all. Which is good, because it’s been a bitch trying to get one down here. Who would have thought that there are so few people trained in the healing arts.”

“It’s because there’s no glory in it like some of the other magic arts. No glory, just intense studies of human anatomy and physiology.”

“You’re speaking all sciency again, so you must be feeling better.”

Castiel let out a huff of laughter that quickly turned into a cough. Dean made a face and carefully pushed Castiel back down onto the bed, guiding his hands to rest on the bed instead of Dean’s face.

“Don’t push yourself too hard; we don’t need you to relapse and start hallucinating again.”

“How long have I been out of it?”

Dean’s frown made Castiel’s stomach turn worse. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the past three days. We were all worried.”

“All of you?” Castiel fought down a hum at the knowledge that Dean had been worried about him.

“Yeah, Lisa and Annette owe you for keeping their kids safe, and the kiddos were worried too. Katie and Ben even tried to pick some flowers for you.” Dean gestured towards the nightstand, which held a glass of water for Castiel to drink, as well as a tiny vase filled with twigs that had hand drawings of flowers tied to them. “Then they remembered it’s winter, so they improvised.”

Castiel chuckled, “They look lovely.”

“Yeah, they really liven up the place,” Dean answered with his own weak laugh. A laugh that sounded moments away from turning into sobs.

“Dean?”

Dean angrily brushed at his eyes, which Castiel now noticed were glistening more than usual. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re crying.”

“I’m not, I just got something in my eyes.”

Castiel was too tired to humor the human. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean sighed. “Your fever was really high this morning. So high that we thought you were going to die. Then you were shaking and shouting in your sleep and… fuck, any moment I thought this was going to be the end.”

Castiel wondered if what Dean felt was his grace reacting to whatever was going on in his mind. Even in this form, his body was thermoregulated to be able to withstand higher temperatures so that his grace didn’t accidentally kill him.

“I’m alright, Dean.”

“I thought you were cursed,” Dean admitted. “Part of me is still convinced you were. You were fine until the moment I pulled out that stupid dragon bracelet.”

Castiel tensed, but Dean paid no regard.

“I was looking up all sorts of lore on clerics, and stumbled across a section that said that you guys were more sensitive to dark magic, especially anything revolving around death. I wasn’t sure if my own magical bloodline had inadvertently turned that bracelet into a dark talisman, but I didn’t want to risk it.”

Castiel eyed him warily. “What did you do?”

“I burnt it.”

Castiel froze, feeling a lump in his throat. “What?”

“I said I burnt it. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I figured I had nothing to lose.”

“But I thought they were your… trophies.” Castiel had to pause to prevent venom sneaking into the word.

“I thought I needed them to get people to take me seriously, but if I need a couple of dried scales to do that then I’ll never get people’s true respect,” Dean said with a huff of annoyance. “Honestly, I’m better off without it. Makes it seem more like I enjoy hunting for the thrills and kills than for why I actually do it.”

Castiel swallowed. “Which is?”

“Saving people. I hunt things so that I can save as many people as possible. I don’t need the glory, and I know I’m no one’s hero.”

“That’s a lie,” Castiel argued. “Everyone here is safe because of you. You’re our hero.”

Dean’s lip twitched into a half smile before quickly going back to a frown. “I almost got everyone killed because of my ego.”

“What do you—”

“You warned me not to go into this with blinders, and all I did was treat this like a surefire dragon hunt. If I wasn’t so pigheaded, I would have put up more wardings, and Ben would have never been kidnapped. The fact that the kid spent those hours being fed off by a monster is on me, and I’m going to have to live with that.”

“Good,” Castiel said, slowly sitting up. “Because we all need to accept the fact that our actions have consequences that can affect those around us. It might make you less reckless in the future.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Why do you even care about what happens to me?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “You have not left my bedside in over two days—don’t deny it, I can tell by your stiff posture and the shadows under your eyes that you’ve been sleeping in that chair—and you expect me to believe that you don’t care about my well being? Why are you allowed to care for me, but I cannot feel the same way about you?”

Dean shifted, looking away from Cas. “You have a family that you need to get back to.”

“And if I didn’t have a family?” Castiel challenged. He was annoyed that Dean wasn’t looking at him, so he grabbed the man’s head again so he couldn’t look away. “If I was a bachelor with no kin of my own, would you just abandon me?”

“You damn well know I wouldn’t,” Dean growled.

“Then why are you so shocked that I feel the same way? I don’t want you to die.”

Castiel had lived through it already, he had felt like his heart had fallen straight out of his body when he saw the life drain from Dean’s eyes. It hadn’t been real, but regardless, it was still the worst feeling that Cas had ever experienced.

Not even Uriel’s death had hurt as badly.

Then again, he and Uriel had drifted apart centuries ago.

And Dean? Dean was someone that Castiel wished was his. No matter how illogical.

“Why?” Dean asked, voice low and uncertain. “Why give a crap about me?”

“Because you care so much about the world,” Castiel admitted. “You manage to find the wonder in the world, and the best of every person. You treat the horses with more respect than most people treat their peers. You are a natural caregiver who always puts others above yourself. You are good, and you deserve good things to happen in your life. You deserve to live a full life.”

Dean closed his eyes as Castiel began to trace the angles of his face with a lone finger.

“You are beautiful, Dean, in both your appearance and your actions. You are still so young… is it so strange that I would like to watch you continue to grow into a man? To want to see what you become?”

Dean snorted, leaning into Castiel’s touch. “And what do you think you’d see?”

“I… I think you’ll be both a strong fighter, and a man known for his kindness. You’ll be known for your sharp wit, and ability to get out of any situation. However, I hope that one day you can find a permanent home so that you don’t always have to be on the road and sleeping in one of those horrid tents—”

Dean laughed, his whole face shaking with mirth.

“Perhaps with a job that you love? Maybe even something with horses. You have a special skill with them, and you know how to take good care of them.”

“Me working with horses? Yeah, I guess that would be pretty awesome. Though I’m still going to be picking up quests on the side. I can’t go completely domestic.”

“I can’t imagine it any other way,” Castiel admitted. “Though hopefully not too far of a journey, so that you have time to return to your family.”

“Oh, so I have a family now?”

Castiel didn’t need to look down to see the smirk on Dean’s face. “I’ve seen the way you look at kids and happy families. I know you want one. I also can’t imagine anyone not wanting to have you as their lifemate.”

How could they not, especially with the way Dean’s forest eyes had snapped open and studied Castiel with a mesmerizing glaze.

“You really think that?” Dean croaked. “You really think I deserve all of that?”

Castiel knew that he stood at a crossroads. Though he had toed the line before, had questioned going off his intended path, he still walked its route. Now, though, the roads were diverging drastically and whatever he picked would be the course he would remain on. There would be no turning back.

Betray his King and his people, or betray Dean?

Castiel looked down at Dean; at his young face, and vibrant eyes, and he knew what he had to do.

He would rather dive off the roads and into uncharted territory. He would forge his own path so that he could still keep this man beside him, without sacrificing his own soul.

“You deserve to follow your heart.”

Dean’s hands traveled to the side of Castiel’s face, carefully cradling him like he was something fragile. He looked at Castiel, as if asking for permission for something that Castiel didn’t understand.

Castiel realized what he was asking a moment later when Dean’s plump lips melded with his chapped ones.

It felt like a million things skittered through his mind at that moment, but Castiel resonated the most with one small whisper.

_Mine_.


	21. Freefalling

Dragons didn’t kiss. Their beaked muzzles didn’t mold the way that human lips did when pressed together. Even if they could, it wouldn’t be seen as being romantically intimate since they used their mouths for communal grooming.

Castiel shouldn’t have felt anything from the human kiss.

Instead he felt _everything_.

He felt the exhilaration of flying through the air; felt the way his heart would pump fast and his stomach would drop from delicious adrenaline as he somersaulted through the air, and dived at speeds that would make a peregrine falcon weep with envy.

He also felt the bliss of taking a nap in a field of flowers, with the sun shining on his back and wings, filling him with the sense of warmth and comfort.

The movement of their lips was like a choreographed battle, both of them dancing around the other before one of them fought for the power to lead in the kiss, only for the other to get an advantage later. Around and around it went, but neither seemed disappointed to “lose”.

Kissing was strange but he could understand why some humans did it. He felt more connected to Dean than he felt to any of his companions. Even though his mind was not linked to Dean’s, he could still sense the want and longing from him.

It surprised him when Dean pulled away, with a startled gasp, and stared at Castiel with pure horror.

“Fuck, I… Fuck, Jimmy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit,” Dean kept putting distance between the two of them until he was on the other side of the room.

“Dean?” Castiel had never heard himself sound so weak and pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m sorry, I know I fucked up. Let’s just forget that this ever happened, okay?”

“You… are you saying that kissing me was a mistake?”

Castiel no longer felt like flying. He was plummeting from the sky, only to crash into the cold, unforgiving ocean. The sun he once basked in had burnt his skin until it was angry and mottled. The choreographed battle had ended with a treacherous knife plunged into his heart.

“Jimmy, you’re married,” Dean practically wailed, looking like his own heart had been impaled by the same knife.

Castiel stared at Dean blankly before he realized what was going on.

“You don’t want to be with me because Jimmy is married?”

Jimmy who had a wife and child, a loving family that Dean thought were waiting for him back home.

Dean did not know that the real Jimmy was already with his family.

Castile smiled wide and laughed, amused by the turn of events.

“Fuck, is the fever back?” Dean returned to his side in an instant, and placed his hand over Castiel’s forehead.

Castiel hummed in pleasure, pressing harder into Dean’s hand, and wishing that he could bury his face against Dean’s neck. Properly scent him, as well as mark him so that everyone knew that Dean was his and he was Dean’s.

“It’s so hard to tell since you’re so clammy. And why are you still laughing?”

“Because your only reason for why you don’t want me is because you think I belong to another.”

Dean frowned. “No offense, but even if you dropped Amelia, it wouldn’t work out. If you can ditch one family in a snap, then there’s nothing preventing you from dropping my ass when you get bored. And for once, I don’t want just another fling.”

Castiel smiled. “I can’t ditch something I never had. Amelia and Claire aren’t my family—”

“You can’t pretend that they don’t friggin’ exist either!”

“Oh, I’m not. They were never mine, they were only Jimmy’s. The real Jimmy.”

Dean gave him a startled look. “Real Jimmy?”

“Yes. He and his family should be halfway to Canada by now,” Castiel explained. “I couldn’t have him in the same area when you showed up, and I didn’t want to run the risk of you accidentally running into him while on the road. You had to believe I was Jimmy.”

“Okay, not Jimmy,” Dean said slowly, his voice filled with skepticism. “Who are you then?”

“My name is Castiel.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted with the admission.

“Cassteeel?”

“Close enough,” Castiel maneuvered his head so he could look into Dean’s befuddled gaze. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say my name for a while now.”

“And Casteel doesn't have any partners?”

“No. Amongst my flock I am considered unmatable. It means I’m not permitted to marry, or have any offspring during the breeding seasons.”

Dean stared blankly at Castiel before slowly shaking his head.

“Dean?” Castiel called out in concern.

“That fever fried your brain worse than I thought. Shit, you have no idea what’s even going on around you, do you?”

Castiel glared. “My mental capabilities have remained fully intact! The only change is that I have decided to take my own path now. One that can keep both you and my people safe.”

“Alright, Cas, how about you tell me all about it in the morning? For now, let’s just get you back to bed and you can sleep off the last of this fever dream.”

“I’ll still be Castiel in the morning,” Castiel warned. “That’s not going to change.”

“Alright. What’s the difference between Cas and Jimmy?”

“A lot, but for what you know, really nothing changes except for having a wife and child. I’ve been Jimmy in name and appearance only. The person you know and interacted with has been Castiel this whole time.”

“Appearance, huh? What do you really look like? Don’t tell me you're secretly a nerdy teenage boy.”

“Quite the opposite. I’m actually much older than you by a few thousand years.”

Dean whistled, the noise distracting Castiel enough that he didn’t put up a fight when he was suddenly pushed back down onto the bed. “Thousand years? How old exactly are you?”

“I lost exact count, but I’m roughly four thousand years old.”

“Damn, you’re really robbing the cradle with me then,” Dean teased. He seemed to be treating the whole exchange as some type of joke.

“You are practically a fletchling to my people, but I’ve learned to accept that you are a matured adult for yours.”

“So what exactly are you, and what do you really look like?”

“Balthazar says I look like a cassowary, but that might just be a result of me once describing him as a reversed eastern yellow robin.”

“What?”

“The eastern yellow has a yellow belly with a gray body, while Balthazar has a gray belly and yellow body.”

“And you and Balthazar are?”

“Dragons,” Castiel admitted. He wanted to study Dean’s face for his reaction, but he ended up yawning instead.

“Right. So tell me this: why would a _dragon_ want to join me on my mission to kill the big daddy of all dragons?”

Technically, only Castiel and his brothers were offspring of the King. The other dragons came from different lineages, but Dean didn’t need to know that.

“It was part of my mission. The King had informed me that the wand you seek would kill us all, so it was my duty to take on the disguise of Jimmy, and accompany you. The plan was to gain your trust, and then kill you the moment the wand was in your grasp and your back was turned.”

“ _Was_?” Dean asked. His voice sounded weird. It was slow and strained, as if he was talking through clenched teeth.

“I couldn’t go through with it,” Castiel admitted, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I debated for a while about turning you into a horse instead—”

Dean snorted, “That’s why you asked me that?”

“I thought since you love horses so much that you would be content to be one, but I understand now that it would be a terrible fate for you. That and I would miss your human form,” Castiel fought against his covers, so that he could grab one of Dean’s hands, and hold it.

“So what? You decided instead of killing me, you’ll just keep me around as a pet? Or a love slave?”

Castiel shook his head before burying his nose against Dean’s hand. Campfires, creeks, and sweetness. Just like he dreamt.

“Then what do you want from me,” Dean asked, sounding a bit unnerved.

“For you to live, and to be happy.”

“And what do you want for yourself?”

“To be by your side for as long as you will let me.”

“I hunt dragons.”

“You hunt _monsters_ ,” Castiel argued, even though it made his stomach drop. “Every dragon you killed was in retaliation for their own crimes. The only thing that I ask of you is that you don’t kill any innocents.”

“I’m still finding that wand, and I’m going to kill the Dragon King. There’s no way around that.”

Castiel’s stomach twisted. “There might be another—”

“No, Cas. He has to die.”

“But why?”

“Because if he doesn’t then my little brother will!” Dean screeched, roughly removing his hand from Castiel

Castiel frowned, slowly sitting back up. He waited for Dean to continue.

Dean paced from one side of the room to the other. “You had almost a 108 degree fever. I shouldn’t be taking anything you say seriously. You’re clearly not in your right mind.”

Dean raked a hand through his hair before turning angrily at Castiel. “But if it’s not then you’ll regret playing mind games with me.”

“I’m not playing any games. Though how does killing my King save your brother?”

Castiel’s skin crawled as he remembered the whispers he heard in his sleep. The darker voice had been that of the King, he was positive of that, but he couldn’t place when the conversations took place and what they had been about. All he knew was that his father wasn’t as bloodless as he claimed.

“Please, Jimmy. I don’t want to get into this now,” Dean begged. “I haven’t slept in almost a week, and I just don’t have the energy to get into this with you when you aren’t yourself.”

“Don’t go back to calling me Jimmy,” Castiel whispered, hating to hear the fake name on Dean’s lips. “I like you saying my name, even an abridged version of it.”

Dean sighed in defeat. “Okay, Cas.”

Castiel smiled. “Good. Now if you’re really that tired you should just join me.”

“Sharing a bed? With you?” Dean looked surprised by the suggestion.

Castiel rolled his eyes. “We’ve been sharing a sleeping space for almost our entire journey together. So much that I now have trouble falling asleep without you next to me. Unless you’re uncomfortable about it now?”

Dean paused a moment too long for Castiel’s liking, but sighed. “Alright. Just don’t shove me off the bed, and you better not get me infected with whatever weird plague you picked up.”

“Not a plague. I think this is from having my mind altered by another dragon,” Cas admitted and Dean did a sharp intake of breath.

“Yeah, we’re definitely having a long talk when you are back to normal.”

“That’s fair. We should probably talk to Zeke as well. It seems like he’s more aware of some information than I am.”

“Okay, we’ll talk to the horse. Won’t forget to add that to the list of insanity going on here.”

Castiel smiled, reaching out to grab Dean’s arms, and slowly tugged him towards the bed, “We’ll talk about it later, but what we both need right now is to rest.”

Dean sighed again before giving in and crawling into bed. “Alright, just don’t get me sick or get yourself more sick.”

“I won’t,” Castiel promised, before burying his head against Dean’s chest and humming in pleasure.

“You really do hum a lot.”

“It’s the closest thing to purring that I can do in this body.”

Dean paused before placing a hand on Castiel’s hair to brush through it. The humming grew louder, as Castiel pressed himself closer to Dean. “I didn’t know dragons can purr.”

“It’s not quite the same noise that cats make, but it’s similar enough and serves the same function,” Castiel informed. “Though there are many theories that cats picked up the trait from our kind.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Cats are giant mimics, you see. Their hisses were done to mimic snakes, so bigger predators would be afraid of them, and their meows were mimicking the sounds of a human baby’s cries to gain human pity. It’s why cats only meow to humans and rarely to each other or any other species. It isn’t far-fetched to think that they also copied purring from our ancestors.”

“Don’t you mean back with dinosaurs?”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. All mammals were more rodent-like creatures at that point in time, there were no felines that far back.”

“Right, silly me. And why are you ‘purring’?”

“Because you make me happy,” Castiel confessed. “Everything about you makes me feel warm and content. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

“Well, I guess that makes two of us.” Dean’s other hand circled around Castiel’s waist and pulled him up closer, and Castiel gripped Dean’s shirt possessively in response.

If Castiel got to have this moment every night for the rest of Dean’s life, then Castiel would have chosen wisely on his new path.

He ignored the voice inside of him that reminded him that Dean’s lifespan, even at maximum human life expectancy, would barely be a blip on Castiel’s timeline. That he was trading a handful of seconds of Dean’s company in exchange for eons of loneliness and exile once the human passed.

Even Castiel’s Blessing couldn’t keep the human alive past more than a century or two.

Their time together might be short, but that was all the more reason why Castiel shouldn’t squander a single moment.


	22. What He Deserves

_/I can’t believe you told him everything,/_ Gadreel grumbled. The horse-drake was extra grouchy this morning since they were back on the road, in the chilly air, when moments before Gadreel was in a warm stable _. /Worse, you did it while you were sick so now he thinks you are delusional./_

“You should be grateful that I told him. Now he just accepts that I’m crazy, and doesn’t judge when he hears me talking to you.”

“Oh, I’m judging you, alright,” Dean called from up ahead. He and Baby were scouting the road further up; Dean being more used to spotting potentially dangerous terrain for the horses, and Baby was sure footed enough that she was less likely to slip.

“Yes, but you haven’t demanded for me to stop yet.”

“You seriously underestimate how concerned I am over your mental well being. If talking to Zeke makes you feel better, then who am I to take that away from you? Just don’t make me regret taking you along with me.”

“I wasn’t about to let you go alone, and we wasted enough time as it is.”

It had taken an additional week for Castiel to be cleared to go back on the road. Despite Castiel’s assurance that his higher body temperature was just a result of his grace trying to heal the damage of whatever the dragoness had done to his mind.

What Castiel didn’t tell Dean was that much of his grace had burnt out trying to heal his mind. Even healing was taking its toll on him, and he was still unable to reach out to Anna.

If Castiel couldn’t play the role of a healer to Dean, then what use was he? He didn’t want to risk Dean deciding to leave him behind in favor of finding a new cleric along the way.

Clerics were rare, but not too difficult to find. Especially not if Dean had connections, like he did with the two holy men who were able to point Dean in the direction of Jimmy.

“The only good thing about us heading out later is that the chances of getting caught in the snow is lower,” Dean said and then laughed. “Man, not like those stories of climate change that Missouri used to tell us as kids to scare us.”

“Climate change?”

“Yeah, Missouri—she’s our resident psychic—would tell us all the stories about this ‘alternate timeline’, where humans invested all of their time in science, and only a few studied the arcane arts. According to her, the humans of that timeline were super lazy. They have these metal things called machines that pretty much do everything for them. Hell, they even had one that has the power of 120 horses and can travel like hundreds of miles in a single day.”

“That sounds impressive,” Castiel admitted. Not as fast as what he could fly, but definitely more impressive than the slow pace of horseback. “Though there must be a downside to this tale.”

“Yeah, apparently these machines would leave trails of this poisonous gas. It killed a lot of the things around it, especially bits of the sky itself. Made it so the sun shone down brighter, which caused all sorts of chaos to the environment. Including snow during the spring months, and days so hot that animals dropped dead from heat exhaustion in the thousands. They called it climate change, and some people would pretend it wasn’t real so they didn’t have to change their ways.”

Castiel shuddered and Dean laughed.

“Yeah, makes me glad not to be part of that twenty-first century. Plus, Baby might be slower than those metal horses, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.”

“I doubt they’d be able to love you as much as she does.”

Which was true, the horse followed Dean with complete trust, and was just as fiercely protective over him.

Though he still wished that they could travel faster.

A measly fifty miles later, the horses had to stop to rest for the evening. Dean was busy setting up the tent again, while Castiel carefully started a fire using the smallest amount of magic he could get away with. Dean only returned to him later with a rainbow trout and a brown trout to fry up.

“Look, I got you some river-food this time,” Dean teased.

“Let’s hope that you cook it up as well as you do creek-food.”

“Trust me, my cooking never disappoints.”

It didn’t, which really wasn’t a surprise to Castiel. However, part of him couldn’t enjoy it as much since there was something else on his mind. Dean swallowed the giant chunk of fish he had shoved into his mouth. “Go ahead, shoot.”

“What did you mean that your brother would die if you didn’t kill the King?”

Dean stiffened. “Do we have to talk about it now?”

“Not necessarily, but a week has gone by since you last brought it up.”

Dean nodded, looking down at his plate, and playing with the scraps that were still there. “What do you know about dragons kidnapping and killing human children?”

“They don’t,” was Castiel’s knee jerk response, before sighing and looking down at his own plate. “At least, they shouldn’t. We are trained to respect all life forms, and that young of all species are precious. The idea of killing children sounds so… so taboo to me.”

Castiel looked up and saw that Gadreel had gathered closer to their campfire, and was watching them with sad eyes. “However, it recently came to my attention that there could be a group of individuals who might be committing these ghastly acts.”

“Oh definitely, and right at the center of it is your precious king.”

“How are you so sure that—”

“I’ve seen him, okay!” Dean snapped. “He’s the only one of those bastards that has three different shades to him. We’ve nicknamed him the Jeweled dragon because he shines like a friggin’ jewelry store.”

Castiel frowned, but wondered if Dean only had spotted the King in the distance.

“He also has bright, blue eyes. They’re almost the same shade as yours. But sometimes they shift to gold or silver.”

That was a tidbit that Dean couldn’t have gathered unless he had witnessed it firsthand.

“He rarely goes to hunt kids himself, but when I was four he went after my little brother. My mom was the one who caught him creeping over the crib, but she was a Campbell, and even though she was retired, she still knew how to fight. But she was pretty useless against him. None of the usual tricks worked.”

The excuse for the King’s immortality had always been that he already survived so many years on earth that his body slowly made him invulnerable.

“Anyway, he killed my mom, kidnapped Sammy, and set our whole house on fire. He would have gotten away with it too, but he didn’t know that Dad was a wizard, and one that was trained in combat fighting. Dad managed to stun him long enough that he dropped Sammy, and then he just flew off. Sammy seemed healthy, so Dad didn’t think anything of it at the time. Especially since he was more worried about the fact that his wife had been killed and we were all homeless. The only things that made it off our property—besides us—were Chevy and Impala; Baby’s parents.

“We might not have noticed anything if Sammy hadn’t gotten really sick when he was six and we had to take him to a psychic. That’s when we found out that something was slowly draining away his life force. We learned the hard way that the dragon might have let go of Sam, but he still had his claws in him. Every year he draws more of Sam’s life force away, and this year is the last he has.”

Dean stared at the fire for a moment before discarding his leftovers into the flames, “That’s why I only have a year to get this all done. The moment it hits Sam’s twenty-second birthday on May second, then he’s a dead man. Sam’s all I have left in the world, and I’m not about to let him die like that.”

Castiel closed his eyes. As hard as it was to picture his own father as a monster, Dean’s story did sound very similar to the whispers he had heard before.

_/This is wrong and you know it./_ A whisper had once screamt.

But could he really kill his own flesh and blood?

“If there is a way to save your brother, and make it so the King never hurts anyone again without killing him, would you be willing to take it?” Castiel asked.

Dean paused. “Why does it matter whether or not that monster dies?”

“Because he is my father,” Castiel whispered sadly. “And monster he may be, but he’s still the only parent I have.”

Dean tensed but then forced himself to relax with a deep breath out, “Fine. But on the condition that you find this alternative by November. And if it doesn’t work, we go back to plan A. No offense, Cas, but I’m not trading my brother’s life for a killer.”

“I understand.”

Deep down, he could even admit that having that many months to research was more time than his father deserved.


	23. Nightmares

The only good thing to come out of Castiel’s recent nights of restless sleep and night terrors was the fact that he finally woke up before Dean, but with enough lighting that he could fully make out his features. He liked tracing Dean’s freckles with his eyes, finding the hidden constellations he knew they possessed. He would study Dean’s features until he was certain he knew every indent and blemish.

He also enjoyed watching the rhythm of Dean’s breaths, the way he snored and denied doing so, but his favorite part was when Dean muttered nonsensical things under his breath. His fondest moment was when the human randomly sat up in his sleep, shouted, “Pudding!” and promptly fell back asleep.

Sometimes, as guilty as it made Castiel feel afterwards, he even enjoyed it when Dean had a nightmare. It made him feel important to have Dean crawl even closer to him, using him as his shield from the dangers inside his own mind. It was these vulnerable moments with Dean that reaffirmed his belief that the hunter was good.

However, it didn’t change the fact that many times Dean’s nightmares were of dragons, many of them featuring Castiel as the starring monster.

“Shit, Jimmy,” Dean whispered into his shoulder, waking up from one such nightmare. “I think part of me is believing the story you told me about you being a dragon sent to kill me.”

“I could never hurt you now, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice cracking as he clung tighter to the human. “Seeing you die has become my own worst nightmare.”

It was always what woke Castiel up in those early hours; the image of Dean’s lifeless husk. The way those forest gold eyes that Castiel loved so much clouded over as his soul left his body. The worst was when it was Castiel’s own claws that ended him, claws that were being compelled to move forward like they had minds of their own.

“The whole _now_ part isn’t as comforting as you think, buddy,” Dean mumbled weakly, attempting to pull away one moment before giving up the next. “If you could change your mind before, what’s to stop you from changing it again?”

Castiel didn’t have an answer. At least, not one that Dean would be able to understand at this moment.

“Shit, I really need to stop doing that, playing into your fantasy,” Dean said. “You’re not a dragon, Jimmy.”

“Please, call me Cas. And I am a dragon.”

“Then why don’t you turn into a dragon right now and prove it?” Dean challenged.

“Well, for one, I’d probably crush you in these close quarters, and your precious tent would be in tatters.”

“My poor tent.”

“Your poor body,” Castiel snickered.

“What’s the other reason? You said _one_ of the reasons so there must be more.”

Castiel sighed against Dean’s hair, knowing Dean was not going to like the next bit of information. “It’s because my grace—the essence that controls my magic—is low. If I tried to transform on the amount I have now, I’d most likely die mid-transformation. Or worse, be stuck between two forms and then die.”

Dean stiffened, reading deeper into Castiel’s words. “You… you’re running low on magic? And you keep trying to heal me, and set up the campfire.”

This time, Dean did rip himself away from Castiel’s hold, but only far enough so that he could study Castiel himself.

Castiel knew he wouldn’t be happy with the dark circles under his eyes or the wrinkles that were beginning to form on this face.

Zeke was quite gleeful to inform Castiel that he was starting to look decrepit, although Dean hadn’t voiced any opinions.

“Shit, Jim—I mean Cas, you really are getting worse everyday. You look like actual shit.”

“You don’t look so handsome in the early mornings yourself,” Castiel lied.

Dean actually looked amazing when he woke up, even with the bedhead and dried-on drool at the corner of his mouth. A mouth that was now frowning.

Castiel closed his eyes, not liking the disappointment and worry on Dean’s face. “When that dragoness… did whatever it was she did to me, I think she threaded her own grace into mine, and when I broke away from her control I not only snapped those threads, but I also left holes behind in my own grace. Holes that are—”

“Causing your magic to leak out,” Dean finished robotically. “Jim—err, Cas? How closely is your life essence tied to your magic?”

Castiel didn’t respond, but Dean cupped his face and gently guided his eyes toward his own. “Very. They… they actually go hand-in-hand. My grace is part of my life essence.”

Dean muttered something angrily under his breath that Castiel could only assume was a curse. “That’s it, we’re taking a detour and finding the nearest cleric.”

“No! We’ve already been on this road for over a week and we still have hundreds of miles left to go—”

“Exactly, Cas! It’s been two weeks since we left Cicero, and you’ve been getting worse every day. If we don’t get you some help now, then you _will_ die on this ride.”

“My grace isn’t draining fast enough to kill me,” Castiel argued. “It’s just… not letting me fully replenish it, either.”

“What you are is a bucket of water with a hole in it.”

“A bucket that is under a constant flow of water. Yes, I’m draining, but I’m far from drying up.”

“Still, you aren’t in any condition to be on the road like this.”

“Dean, I’m telling you that I’m _fine_!”

“Fine, if you won’t care about _your_ safety, then maybe give a fuck about _mine_ ,” Dean growled out angrily. “You’re my partner in this; the person who is supposed to have my back and patch me up when I’m down for the count. How the hell is that supposed to happen when you can barely stand upright?”

Castiel flinched, but kept his face in Dean’s secure grip. “I would make sure that you are safe.”

“Yeah, and what am I supposed to do when you end up killing yourself to save me?” Dean’s voice started out angry, but then cracked as the true worry bled through. “I can’t have another person die trying to keep me safe. I just can’t.”

Castiel frowned before carefully cradling Dean’s face as well. “We all have to die someday, and there’s no nobler cause than dying for a loved one.”

“Noble or not, doesn’t change the fact that I don’t deserve it. I mean, look at me! Do I really look like I’m worth the deaths of _five_ people?”

“That is a high number of people, but surely they didn’t die as a direct result of—”

“Death one: Mom. She got flamed alive by dragon’s fire when she went back inside our old house to get me out. I was hiding under my bed and was too scared to come out, and she had to drag me out. She took up too much time trying to rescue me, and the house collapsed on her before we both made it out. She pushed me out of harm's way.”

Castiel felt his heart ache. “You were just a child, a child who was dealing with frightening stimuli the best way he could.”

“Death two: my grandmother and namesake. Grandma Deanna took us in after Mom died, and she was even the one who trained my dad in the dragon-hunting ways. She also watched us while Dad was away hunting, which was all the time. When I was thirteen, I was cocky and thought that I was ready to take on monsters by myself. Wasn’t like I hadn't hunted before. I thought I had found a cockatrice's nest nearby, and decided to take care of it myself without any backup. It ended up being a wyrm den. Lucky for me, Sammy told Gran where I was, and she found me right as it was getting ready for the kill. Gran got the jump on it first to deliver a lethal blow, but it still had enough energy to snap her neck before it died.”

Dean started to tremble in Cas’ hands.

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Then there was Grandpa Henry, the wizard. He and Dad had a big falling out over him marrying a huntress, and he was even more disappointed when Dad gave up his Men of Letters training to be a hunter himself. But Dad couldn’t be bothered to raise us himself, especially with Sammy so sick, so he just dumped us with Gramps. I think Henry took it as an opportunity to try to raise us as wizards, but that didn't last long before he ended up dead too. Remember that wyrm that Gran killed because of me? It had friends that wanted revenge, and they killed Henry. Technically they were going to kill me, but Henry offered himself in my place since a Man of Letters is more impressive than some snot-nosed kid. The joke was on them, though—he used his death as a blood curse that ended up killing their whole den anyway.

“Number four was Dad. It was during the mission for my first official dragon kill when I was twenty. A black-and-white dragon had been terrorizing the local towns—don’t give me that look, Cas, we had eyewitness reports, and even the town’s sheriff witnessed it kill her little boy. That monster had to die.”

That wasn’t the reason Castiel had looked at Dean like that.

“Anyway, we finally tracked the son of a bitch back down to Kansas, but we weren't expecting it to be fucking telekinetic.” Dean’s eyes blazed with fury as he spoke. If Dean possessed grace, he would be breathing fire. “We didn’t even know they could do that!”

“Technically we can’t as a species,” Castiel carefully stated, his mind divided, focused on two separate thoughts “but some have the Blessing of telekinesis.”

“Blessing?”

“It’s what we call the specialized magic that our grace produces, though we aren’t sure how much of a part lineage plays in how it manifests. Take my family: my Blessing is healing. Raphael controls lighting, Lucifer has ice, and Michael… we call him a ‘super soldier.’ His fire burns hotter, his armor is thicker, and he is stronger than the average dragon. I believe Gabriel had illusions, and Uriel… Uriel had telekinesis.”

Castiel had to close his eyes, fighting back the grief that flowed through him. No matter his feelings on the killer, Castiel still missed his brother. Loving Dean didn’t make him love Uriel less, no matter how much of a betrayal it might feel to both of them.

“So your dragon brother was also telekinetic? Well, then, you must know how much it sucks trying to fight against one.”

“I have had my fair share of spars with Uriel,” Castiel admitted.

“Yeah, well, there’s no feeling like an invisible avalanche attacking you,” Dean growled bitterly. “One minute I’m on the beast’s trail, and the next I’m being slammed against the ground by an invisible force, feeling like every bone in my body was broken. I felt like my lungs were filled with liquid fire, every breath I took burning more, and there was the constant taste of blood in my mouth. Hell, I couldn’t even open my eyes because my vision kept fading in and out. But I could hear everything.”

The trembling from before was getting worse, and Castiel scooped Dean further into his arms, carefully easing him back towards the ground.

“I could hear it growling and hissing at me. It was so loud, it felt like the vibrations of the sound went right through me. Then I felt the THUMP THUMP of its massive feet coming towards me. Won’t lie, I think I even pissed myself, I was so freaked.” Dean tried to let out a self-deprecating laugh, but it turned into a sob instead.

“I could feel the warm and smelly breath of the dragon as it opened its mouth near my head, and I knew I was going to die.”

Castiel frowned. Even though the story ended with a living Dean curled up against him, he did not like the direction the tale was taking.

“Then I heard my dad’s voice, yelling some incantation, and suddenly there was a flash of light so bright that I could see it through my closed eyes, and I could no longer feel the dragon over me.”

“A banishment spell,” Castiel breathed. “A high-level spell that only the most proficient of spellcasters can do.”

“Yeah, well, turns out Dad could do it.”

“But… a banishment spell wouldn’t have any negative side effects besides needing some blood magic to complete. It didn’t sound like he got hurt in the tussle, so how did…”

“How did he die? Well, you’re right, he didn’t get hurt. But I was dying. Whatever that monster did caused some heavy damage to my organs, and my body was slowly shutting down. But leave it to Dad to have another high-level spell up his sleeve. A spell wizards called the Demon Deal.”

Castiel felt the tiny prickles of hair stand up at the ominous name, but waited for Dean to get his bearings to continue.

“We call it that because you trade your life for someone else’s, and that’s what happened. I got to live, while Dad took my spot in the grave.”

Castiel opened his eyes to study this human closer, realizing that even more of his world had flipped upside down. “Is that why you hunted him down again? To get vengeance on what he did to you and your father?”

“No,” Dean sounded offended. “Yeah, I had beef with it, but that wasn’t the reason I hunted it down. It was a killer, and in the five years since I let it go, it killed six more children that I could trace directly back to it.”

Castiel nodded slowly, still feeling sick at all of the blood on his brother’s claws.

“I didn’t really hunt it down, either. The last time I saw ol’ killer dragon, it was dumb luck. I was just getting back from a wendigo hunt when I saw three dragons fly over in the distance, and I recognized his scale patterns. Especially since he had that weird rectangle patch on the left side of his chest.”

Castiel clenched his jaw. Black and white dragons weren’t exactly rare, and a part of himself was desperately hoping that Dean had accidentally killed the wrong dragon. That Uriel was an innocent victim and this was all a misunderstanding. But now there was no more denying it.

“I couldn’t let it destroy anymore lives, and tried to shoot it out of the sky. I can only assumed it died, because later when I tried to find my arrows, I found its scale had—”

“Discolored from death,” Castiel replied emotionlessly.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, slowly curling closer to Castiel. “You know, I thought getting vengeance would have helped. Gank the bastard that would’ve killed me if Dad didn’t step in. I thought it would’ve at least stopped the nightmares, but nothing’s changed.”

“Except now I’m one of your monsters.”

“Yeah, but you’re not always the villain. Sometimes I am,” Dean admitted. “In those dreams you’re.... you’re still you, but a dragon that’s the size of a horse—”

Castiel let out an indignant squawk. He was at least three times the size of a Clydesdale.

“And you look at me with those blue eyes of yours, tell me that everything is okay, that you won’t hurt me, and I... I just gut you like a fish.” Dean shivered at the admission. “I watch the blood drain from your body, and the whole time you keep looking at me with these kind eyes, and tell me that it’s alright, that you f-forgive—” The rest of the words get choked off as Dean fights to control the melancholy surfacing.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers, rubbing angrily at an eye that let a tear fall without his permission. “It’s not even real; why the hell am I being such a wimp?”

“I’ve had a similar reaction,” Castiel admitted. He hadn’t cried, but that was only because his body didn’t know how. Tears were a very human thing, and even though he had a human form, he wasn’t human. “Nightmares of hurting you, and the staggering guilt I feel afterwards. Watching you die the first time is what made me realize how much I needed you alive.”

“I need you alive too,” Dean whispered, his autumn eyes pleading. “So do me a favor and just check out a healer for me? There’s one only a couple of days away, and it doesn’t take us off course from the journey.”

Castiel realized the improbability of that. “We’ve been heading in the direction of them this whole time, haven’t we?”

Dean’s guilty smile was answer enough.

If Castiel still had his tail, it would be angrily whacking the ground.

“Don’t look at me like that, Cas. When Lisa went to check out information on nearby healers, she found out the closest person was in Ohio, and they didn’t travel. At least, not since they moved there from Nebraska. Figured it was best to just alter our course slightly so that we can run into them. Worst case, you’re fine, and maybe if we’re lucky you could pick up an interesting healing trick from them.”

“I doubt it,” Castiel haughtily replied. “I’ve been practicing my healing arts before the English language was… well, a language.”

“You sound like you’re older than dirt,” Dean teased. “But who knows, maybe for an old dog, you can learn some new tricks.”

“There is nothing canine-like about me,” Castiel argued and Dean laughed, a wet sound that seemed to be drowning out the last of the sadness. Castiel felt lighter hearing the joyful noise, and he decided it was his new favorite sound in the world, just like the jovial gleam in Dean’s eyes was now his favorite sight. He knew that he had to do his best to keep both in his life, and that meant doing whatever he could to make Dean happy. “However, I’m willing to at least give it a shot, no matter how doubtful I am.”

Dean’s relieved smile made him think he made the right decision.


	24. Miracles Aren't Real

“Cas, I think I made a horrible mistake,” Dean hissed frantically, his eyes wide as he glanced around, desperately looking for a way to escape and finding none.

Mainly because they were sitting in the middle of some sort of sermon.

“You’re the one who swore that he was a true cleric and could help,” Castiel growled, showing little remorse. “You made your bread, now dine on it.”

“That’s not how the saying even goes, you asshat. And how was I supposed to know that a magical faith healer wasn’t the same as a cleric?” Dean demanded.

“Shhh!” the people nearby hushed Dean, one particular middle-aged woman glaring at him with fury.

“Hey, I did _not_ come all the way out here to be shushed by some zealots,” Dean said, speaking louder just to make a point.

“Only those who have faith and hear the message from Reverend Roy are worthy of his healing,” the angry woman hissed.

“Then shouldn’t you be paying attention to his words instead of admonishing ours?” Castiel pointed out.

The woman huffed in annoyance, turning her attention back to the stage where the reverend was loudly proclaiming something about the almighty and miracles. However, the young woman next to her giggled, and smiled apologetically at Dean and Castiel.

“Nice one,” Dean chuckled. “And sorry this has been a bust.”

“At the very least, we can expose him for the fraud he is,” Castiel said, earning horrified looks from the audience members who overheard his comment.

“Who let these nonbelievers in anyway?” a man grunted in annoyance.

“I’m not a nonbeliever, I actually believe in a lot of things. However, this reverend doesn’t have a spark of magic in him,” Castiel said with a shrug.

“Whoa, what? You can see magic? Since when?” Dean sputtered.

“Since always,” Castiel said, confused. “Can’t human magic users see it? It’s an aura that surrounds you and is easy to see if one focuses. Though that might be a result of my grace.”

“Huh. And you say this Roy fellow doesn’t have any?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, he doesn’t have a magical gene in his body.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been here for weeks, and I have seen Reverend Roy work countless miracles,” the haughty woman said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No one was asking you!”

Castiel frowned. “You’ve been waiting here for weeks?”

“Why do you think the crowd is so big? The reverend can only perform one healing a day,” the woman explained before looping her arm around the younger woman. “But today’s the day that my Layla is going to be picked.”

“Mom,” the daughter complained with a laugh. She was a pretty blonde with a kind face but sad eyes that looked too old to be in such a young face.

Castiel studied her closer, frowning when he realized what was ailing her. “You’re dying.”

The mother made a disgruntled noise, but the daughter only nodded. “The doctors couldn’t explain what was wrong with me, and the clerics that I have come across were too low-level to do much.”

“If I was at full strength, I might be able to cure you,” Castiel said, eyeing her cranium, where most of the dark energy radiated from. Even just looking at it was making him feel winded. “But I’m barely at a quarter capacity.”

Dean tensed, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t voice whatever he was thinking.

“You’re a healer yourself,” Layla said as her eyes widened.

“Yes, quite proficient, actually. However, I ran into a… problem that has been draining my magic ever since. Though I don’t think I require a healer.”

“Then why are you here?” the mother growled.

Castiel just pointed at Dean, who glared back.

“Now what’s all this hubbub about over there?” the booming voice from the stage called, and everyone turned around to face Castiel’s aisle.

Castiel blushed in embarrassment, while Dean just gave a cheeky grin. The mother, however, took advantage of the reverend's new attention to jump up from her seat.

“Please, Reverend Roy,” the mother cried, tears streaming from her eyes as she quickly yanked Layla up from her own seat. “Have mercy on me and my family. My daughter, Layla, was diagnosed with an evil disease that is slowly eating away at her. Everyone has predicted that within six months she will be dead. So please, please take pity and save my baby girl.”

There were murmurs in the crowd while the blind reverend looked up toward the sky. Finally after some deliberation, he slowly nodded his head. “Yes. Yes, your daughter will be the soul that will be saved today.”

The mother let out a happy sob as she ushered her daughter down the aisle and onto the stage with the reverend.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, leaning in close, “what are the chances that this healing does anything?”

“Nonexistent,” Castiel ruefully admitted. “Without any magical bloodline, the reverend won’t be able to cast even the simplest of healing spells. All that he can do is provide false hope.”

Dean cursed, low enough that the devotees around him couldn’t hear. “That’s just cruel. Giving everyone false hope like that.”

“Isn’t it better that she spend the rest of her life happy, not worrying about her quickly approaching demise?”

“Shit, Cas, make sure you don’t give any motivational speeches. You suck at them.”

“Fact remains, isn’t it better to enjoy the last moments of your life?”

“What you’re doing is living a lie,” Dean argued, voice rising so Castiel could hear him over the sound of the sudden chanting going on. “The truth isn’t pretty, but at least you can go down knowing that you did everything you wanted to do, and say your goodbyes. You don’t take the time for granted.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true, but—” Castiel froze, feeling a familiar yet still foreign presence. One that caused shivers to run up his spine like the very bones had been replaced by ice. Slowly his head turned back towards the stage, just in time to see Layla faint on the ground. However, it was the phantom that loomed behind the reverend that captivated his attention.

The creature was sickly gray, with sunken eyes and skin so dry that it was cracked and bleeding, its form so skinny that the skeletal armor it wore molded right on top of it, making the distinction between the different ribs hard. The bones were also yellow, with signs of decalcification, and looking so brittle that Castiel was expecting them to shatter. Its two membrane-covered arms held a pair of wings that were littered with holes, making Castiel wonder if the poor thing could even fly.

White energy flowed around the creature, energy of pure life essence. It circled around the wyvern twice before being flung into Layla’s body. With his magical sight, Castiel could see the sickness slowly driven away.

Layla slowly came to, and once she was fully awake, the wyvern disappeared into the wind like it was never there.

Castiel stared at the empty space until a hand blocked his field of vision.

“Hello? Cas?”

Castiel startled and looked at Dean. “Yes?”

“What are you looking at? The show’s to your right.”

“Actually, it was to the left.” Castiel turned to Dean, feeling nauseous at what he just witnessed. “Dean, I think I found us an additional quest.”

Dean shot him a weird look. “Okay?”

“Yes, and I know part of the puzzle already. The reverend is using a wyvern to heal those people.”

“How did you… You know what, never mind. And why is this a bad thing? I mean, people are getting cured, so isn’t it a win?”

“You don’t understand, Dean. Wyverns can’t heal, not without a high price. In order for them to cure someone, especially from the brink of death, they need to absorb the life force of someone else.”

Dean tensed. “You mean… Fuck.”

“Yes.”

Someone had just died in order to give Layla back her life.


	25. Life Sentence

Dean looked at the two drawings on the dining table, eyebrows furrowing as he studied them closely. “I’ll be damned. You both _did_ see the same thing.”

“I told you,” Castiel huffed before glancing at the pictures himself. Layla was clearly no artist, and her proportions were off, but she clearly drew a wyvern. Not only a wyvern but one with the same decrepit look as the one Castiel drew. “Now can you agree that we have a quest?”

“I still don’t understand what the problem is,” Layla’s mother grumbled, crossing her arms and making no effort to hide the fact that she hated every minute that she and her daughter were stuck talking to them. “Whatever they saw cured my daughter, and I’m not looking that gift horse in the mouth.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with the subject at hand, but I wouldn’t recommend you looking a horse in the mouth, as I’ve learned that some of them are very bitey,” Castiel wisely informed her. “But the issue behind this is that wyverns don’t have the ability to heal, only to transfer life force. Meaning that while your daughter is alive and happy, someone else died from your daughter’s disease.”

Layla paled. “B-but I still had six months left!”

“Six months added to the expectancy after aggressive treatment. For the victim, they would have received your disease at its fullest, without the body knowing how to handle it. If the disease didn’t kill them, then I fear the systematic shock would have.”

Layla stood up from her seat, shaking. “No… no, this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want any of—” She caught sight of her mother and started bawling. “I came to terms with my terminal illness. I had finally made peace with myself and the world around me, but you were the one that wasn’t satisfied! You kept pushing and pushing—”

“And look where it got us! You’re alive because of it!” Layla’s mother argued. “I won’t apologize for saving my daughter’s life.”

“All you did was make another mother bury her child instead,” Layla hissed before storming outside.

“Layla! Don’t you walk away from me!” her mother shouted before following after her.

Castiel shared a glance with Dean. “Should we intervene?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, gotta let them hash it out themselves. It’s not going to be pretty, but at least they’ll get it out of their systems.”

Dean grabbed the water pitcher from the table and poured himself and Castiel a glass, however, instead of drinking it, he stared into the glass instead. “It’s rough seeing your kid slowly die. I mean, Sam’s not my son, but I practically raised him, and it hurts like hell. Worse, you have to pretend that everything is normal, and nothing’s changed, all the while they slowly decline and can no longer do the things they love. It's just… I don’t know, it just drains you, man.”

Castiel frowned, sloshing the water around in his own glass. “We don’t really have to deal with diseases like that amongst my people. There’s not really any disease that can make us sick, and I haven’t even met someone who died from old age. The only deaths I have ever seen were caused by either nature or murder.”

“Wait, never seen anyone die of old age? How old are you saying dragons live for?”

“Well, I’m in my fourth millennia. We don’t really consider someone older until they are past their tenth, but it’s an arbitrary system since our King has survived twenty millennia and is still in the prime of his life.”

“Shit, that thing really is older than dirt, then. Makes me wonder if he’s just a lucky bastard, or if all those kids he’s killed had anything to do with it.” Dean stared at his water before tossing it back like a shot. “Probably did.”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. “Instead of focusing on him, we should focus on what to do with the wyvern.”

“What to do with it? We kill it, of course!”

Castiel shook his head, looking horrified. “You can’t kill a wyvern! Do you know how important they are to the ecosystem?”

“Umm...?”

Castiel shook his head, disappointed that none of Dean’s monster training ever taught him about things other than violence. “Have you ever wondered why not every creature that dies becomes a ghost? Or why you don’t see thousands of ghosts all over hospitals and graveyards?”

“Luck of the draw?”

“No, it’s because of wyverns. See, like dragons, they also have grace, but unlike dragons, they can’t regenerate grace while they sleep or from being exposed to sunlight—”

“Wait, are you saying you run on sun power? Like a plant or something?”

“Or something. Anyway, wyverns had evolved to replenish their grace in the presence of death—”

“Creepy.”

“Dean, I would appreciate it if you would stop interrupting me,” Cas said, exasperated. Dean held his hands up in surrender, leaving Cas to continue. “Over time, their grace morphed, changing their individual blessings to the ability to cradle souls and deliver them to the afterlife. Not only does this give the soul a faster route to the afterlife, which means less dangerous ghosts in this world, but it also gives wyverns the power boost they need. That’s especially important since wyverns use huge amounts of their grace for their speed, and their ability to blend into shadows.”

“Shadows?” Dean looked around nervously, trying to pinpoint all the nearby shadows. “So you’re saying that thing could even be in here if it wanted to be? Is there any way to know?”

Castiel opened his mouth, then closed it in consideration. “They can’t usually hide from my kin, and vice versa, but with my… limited amount of grace, I’m not sure how much of myself will register as a dragon to another.”

“So you’re saying that you’re pretty much human right now?” Dean asked, leaning backwards in his chair.

“In a way… yes. Or at the very least, I’m not very dragon-like.”

Dean nodded his head, but looked like he was lost in thought.

Castiel wondered if Dean thought this sounded like a convenient excuse, and marked that down as another reason that Castiel was just a crazy version of Jimmy, instead of who he really was.

“Our best bet is to not engage with the wyvern, but instead find whatever is controlling them,” Castiel continued, hoping to distract Dean.

“Fine by me, I don’t really want to fight some invisible foe. But what exactly are we looking for?”

“My guess? Some sort of talisman containing the blood of the wyvern, as blood magic is really the only thing strong enough to control one of our kind.”

“Great. So why can’t we kill this thing again? I get that they help with the whole Circle of Life thing, but I’m not seeing much of a consequence.”

Castiel sighed. “Do you know that it takes roughly seven years for every cell in your body to be destroyed and new ones to take its place?”

“Really, Cas? Another science lecture?” Dean grumbled. “No, I didn’t know that. Wanna hear something else I don’t know? Your point.”

“The _point_ is that it also takes seven years for traces of a soul to leave a wyvern once it’s been… reaped. That means that a soul still has a tie to their reaper, and if that wyvern dies traumatically then it can pull on those ties and yank those souls out of their afterlives. Do you know how many souls a single wyvern can reap in a year?”

“I’m guessing a lot.”

“Over 100,000 humans a year alone. Times that by seven, add in multiple other species, and we have over a million angry and crazed spirits to deal with in its place.”

Dean whistled, trying to act nonchalant, but his eyes revealed his concern. “Shit, no wonder I’ve never heard any tales of a hunter taking down one of those guys.”

“One of you did many centuries ago. The catastrophe was so bad that it also had adverse effects on overall human health, and that’s why the Black Plague was so detrimental.”

“Okay, noted, there’s no way we can kill this thing without killing half of America. Fucking perfect,” Dean grumbled. “So what? We find the thing controlling the monster and break it?”

“Precisely,” Castiel said, getting out of his seat to stretch. “That and make sure not to get killed.”

“What’cha doing, Cas?” Dean asked.

“This human body gets more cramped every day I’m in it, and I—”

“No, I mean where do you think you’re going?”

“To the stables to talk to Zeke,” Castiel said innocently. “He’s older than me by a couple of millennia, and I’m hoping he might know more about wyverns. If not, I’ll see if I finally have enough magic to contact Anna, and see if she can get additional information from Billie. She’s a wyvern, afterall.”

“Anna?”

Castiel snorted. “Of course not, she’s a dragoness. Billie’s the wyvern.”

“And Billie is...?”

“She’s one of my brothers’ betrothed. My… our King thought it would be good to strengthen our relationships with our distant kin and arranged it with their Grim.”

Dean snickered. “So there really is a Grim Reaper after all .”

“Yes, and he’s been alive almost as long as the King, so chances are he’s _the_ Grim Reaper.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Castiel shook his head. “You’ll only distract Zeke, and you wouldn’t be able to hear either one of them anyway.”

“And… how are you talking to Anna?”

“I have one of her scales, and I’ll just focus my mind on her.”

“Okay, sure.” Dean nodded slowly again, walked over to Castiel, and placed a hand over his forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“Just making sure that the fever didn’t come back.”

Growling softly, Castiel shoved Dean away. “My mental faculties are operating just fine, and one of these days you’re going to believe me.”

“I’m just saying, Ji— _Cas_ , a lot has changed since you got sick. And I’m not just talking about the dragon stuff.” Dean reached out and gripped Castiel’s hand.

Even though Castiel was miffed at Dean, he still interlaced their fingers together, and brought Dean’s hands up to his lips to kiss.

“That’s what I mean.” Dean’s cheeks were pink, and he was smiling softly, but his eyes looked sad and were filled with guilt. “A lot has changed in a short amount of time, and… I’m sorry, Cas, but it just doesn’t add up, unless—”

“Unless it’s the truth?”

“Unless the effects of the fever and the guilt of cheating on your wife made you create this whole other identity.”

“Why would I tell you I’m a dragon then?” Castiel hissed, but made no move to remove Dean’s hand from his face. “Why would I divulge that, especially to a dragon hunter? Isn’t that an easy way for me to become someone you hate?”

“Unless that’s just part of the psychological masochism? You make yourself become something you think I’d hate so that I stop caring about you. That way you—”

“This is just sounding more and more ridiculous.”

“Really, Cas? This is the thing that sounds ridiculous? What part about you being a giant dragon stuffed into a tiny body makes any sense? Or the fact that you were sent to kill me but instead you fell in… in like with me. That sounds crazy!”

“And the things you do for a living don’t? We’re about to break into a holy man’s home because he’s using black magic to control a wyvern to kill and heal people. How’s that any stranger than the stuff I told you?”

“Because someone falling in love with me is the craziest thing out there,” Dean shouted, pulling his hands away. “You’ve only known me for a little over a month, and you claim that you love me. That you will throw away everything you love and worked for to be with me. And that’s just crazy.”

Castiel felt his own anger evaporate, faced with the blazing inferno of Dean’s own self-hatred. “Dean…”

“No, because either way you look at it, you’re crazy if you want to choose me. As Jimmy you have a beautiful family who’ll never want to see you again. Years of marriage, and your whole happily-ever-after just up in flames.” Dean shoved his now empty hand through his short hair. “And why would you choose to stand beside me if you’re a dragon? You say you’re a couple of millennia? I’m lucky if I’ll make it to forty.”

“Don’t say that,” Castiel attempted to growl, but it came out as a whimper.

“It’s true. Hell, there’s still a good chance that I’m not making it past another year. Plus, how can I even believe that you can feel anything for me when there are others… well, others who’ve been with you for longer than my mind can wrap around. The time we’ve spent together must be a sneeze in comparison. So how can you even develop any feelings in such a short time?”

“It’s because I have lived millennia without you that I can see the stark difference there is between my life from before knowing you and my life since knowing you. I’m happy, Dean. And it’s not because you always make me feel happy, because frankly you aggravate me more days than not, but even when I’m at my most frustrated, I don’t feel alone. You make me… you make me _feel_.”

Castiel inched his way back into Dean’s personal space, looking at him longingly, before he reached out to recapture Dean’s hand. “It wasn’t as if I was sad before I met you either. I just felt nothing. Emotions were fleeting, feeling more like casual observations about the world around me and how it influenced me, instead of being a part of it. Even the strongest of emotions wouldn’t linger for long.”

Castiel buried his face back into Dean’s hand, letting the familiar scent flood his nasal passages. The smell wasn’t as powerful with his pathetic human senses, but it was enough to give him courage. “It’s not a dragon thing, either. When… when my brother passed away, his mate was capable of grief. Not that I wasn’t shaken by it or remorseful, but it… it didn’t devastate me like it should have. He was my littermate, someone who was there since our hatching, but even the knowledge of never seeing him again couldn’t shake me. I accepted it was life and whether I liked it or not, I had to move on.”

Castiel looked up and saw that Dean’s was hovering much closer than before. So close that Castiel could make out his own reflection in the man’s irises. “Yet just dreaming about you dying is enough to rattle me. Rattle me so deeply that I wake up in a panic, with the inability to breathe properly. But then I can feel you breathing next to me, and suddenly the air returns to my own lungs, and I feel an overwhelming sense of relief to know that you are alive. Don’t you see? You have more sway on me than anyone has before, where just the thought of losing you is something that renders me powerless.”

Dean’s eyes were filled with a combination of confusion, caution, and hope. “I can’t be the only one who’s ever made you feel happy.”

“You aren’t,” Castiel agrees. “Anna makes me happy. Balthazar makes me happy. My family and charges make me happy. But the feeling isn’t as potent as when I’m with you. For them, I’m happy in the moment, and then it’s gone. For you, that feeling doesn’t really fade. It’s like the happiness you provide is more durable and lingers longer. It also doesn’t take much for you to make the feeling return when it does fade. Sometimes all it takes is a soft smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, or an act of selflessness that makes my very grace grow warmer than I thought possible.”

Castiel used his free hand to cradle Dean’s head and lightly trace the freckles he held so dear. “But it’s not just happiness you make me feel, and for longer periods. As I stated before, you are highly aggravating and know how to push all my buttons. You make me petty, competitive, and I feel more childish around you than I felt in my own youth. You also make me sad, and worried, and absolutely terrified. Being with you is both the comforts of the familiar and the exhilaration of the unknown. You are everything I didn’t believe was possible, and with each day we spend together, I know that there is no way I can go back to a life without you.”

“T-then...” Dean’s voice cracked and he had to clear his throat. “Then what happens when this is… I’m sorry, Cas, I just can’t do this.” He gently tugged away again.

“Dean?”

“I’m sorry, Cas, I know this all feels real to you, but to me… to me it feels like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“But you aren’t.” Castiel slowly tilted his head in confusion. “Is it… do you not desire me?”

Dean let out either a sob that turned into a laugh, or a laugh that turned into a sob. Castiel wasn’t sure which he preferred. A situation so pathetic that it was laughable, or something so inconsequential and silly, that it was to be pitied. “That’s not it, Cas. You got to know that. But… but I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” Castiel asked, reaching desperately for Dean again, but he evaded him.

“I can’t have you finally wake up one day and be disgusted by everything!” Dean shouted, his face red and his whole body shuddering with the intensity of his emotions. “Like it or not, it’s going to happen, and you know what happens next? You leave, and I’m left even more broken than I am now.”

“Why are you so convinced that I’m going to leave you?”

“Because no one settles for second class goods,” Dean hissed. “Because that’s all I am. I’m just the afterthought, not the primary objective.”

“Dean—”

“No, Cas, or whoever you are. Even you admitted that you didn’t want me until a fever dream made you believe I was dead! That’s not love, that’s latching onto a security blanket.”

“Or it just put my life into a better perspective,” Castiel argued. “Now tell me this, what do you have issues with more? Me being a dragon? Or me being Jimmy?”

“What the hell are you—”

“If you do have undeniable proof that I really am the dragon Castiel, will you accept my courtship?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Hell, if you turn out to be a big, friendly dragon like you claim, then we can skip the courtship and go straight to dragon marriage.”

If Castiel still had wings they would have flared out by now, fluffing with excitement and anticipation.

“But let’s face it, Cas,” Dean sighed. “That’s not going to happen.”

“It’s not a question of will it happen, it’s a question of _when_ ,” Castiel said, smiling wider than he knew this body was capable of. “I for one look forward to claiming you as my mate once my grace finally heals. But that will still take some time, and we do have a mission to sort through. In the meantime, I have a horse to chat with.”

Feeling bold, he gave a quick peck to Dean’s cheek. “Oh, and Dean? Dragons mate for life.”


	26. A Wise Steed

“This isn’t working,” Castiel growled angrily, only moments away from tossing Anna’s scale across the room. Instead, he clutched it closer to his chest and banged his head lightly on the stall behind him.

 _/I’m pretty sure the last thing you need is anymore holes in your head,/_ Gadreel observed, his own head peeking out from inside his stall.

“I know, but… I’m frustrated. It’s been weeks and I still can’t talk to Anna.”

_/You also can’t make more than a smolder, and your healing skills are rudimentary at best./_

“Why, thank you, Zeke. Just what I needed to hear. You sure know how to make me feel better,” Castiel replied dryly.

_/I do my best to speak only the truth. Though there are some perks to these setbacks. You no longer need to sneak around, for instance./_

“Yes, because Dean thinks I’m crazy.” Castiel sighed, but a smirk still found its way to his lips. “He’s even agreed to be my mate once I can prove to him that I’m perfectly sane.”

_/Mate? Is that what you really want? Or is it because of your position?/_

Castiel growled in warning. “My feelings for Dean have nothing to do with my status as un-mateable. The status and prediction never even bothered me before.”

Castiel didn’t need to look at Gadreel to envision the disbelief on his face. “It’s true. Father predicted that there was no type of dragon or kin in my future that would be my mate, and I would never bear any young. I was surprised by the prediction, but it never really bothered me. I was never interested in having a mate like my siblings and peers, and though the verdict was lonely, it wasn’t exactly disappointing. I preferred to be alone forever than matched with someone I didn’t know. Or worse, to know that my mating was purely political.”

Just as Michael and Lucifer’s matings went. Michael was predicted to mate with a wyvern, and Lucifer a wyrm, and through their unions their kingdoms would prosper. Since their matings were political, there was little personal information as to who was the intended mate, or details about their future offspring. It was one of the reasons why negotiations for a cross-kin mating had taken so many millennia to sort through.

Even Uriel’s and Anna’s mating was met with some insecurities, as neither had seen each other in a non-platonic light before. Their first half century together was an awkward transition, despite them being fated matches.

“I really did think I would prefer to be alone over being with a mate I didn’t want. But that’s what makes this different. I _want_ Dean. I want to share my nest and my hoard with him. I want to travel the world with him! Preferably the true travel way and not relying on slow creatures to carry us around. I want to show him how it feels to fly, and what a true nest feels like. I want to be able to provide for him so that he doesn’t have to muck the stables just so we can afford a place to rest. I want him to feel valued and not a… an afterthought. I want him to know that I’m proud to claim him as my own.”

 _/Are you positive that Naomi didn’t mess with your mind? You weren’t this open about your enthrallment before,/_ Gadreel huffed, but the name caused Castiel to freeze.

“Who’s Naomi?”

_/For a prince, you know very little of how the kingdom works. Naomi is one of your father’s most trusted. She has the blessings of memory. She can erase old ones, and even create new ones./_

Castiel felt his heart beat faster as a cold panic flooded through him. Was Dean correct? Were these feelings all new? Did Naomi plant them in him?

Then he remembered the look of disgust on the brown dragoness’ face when she saw Dean, and her sickening smile when she killed the lookalike. He couldn’t see her making him debase himself by falling for a human. The King definitely wouldn’t allow it.

“What purpose would these fake feelings have? Why would she create something that would turn me away from my mission? Would make me want to betray my King?”

Gadreel snorted. _/Who knows? Maybe the opposite? Maybe she was trying to make you hate the human and tried to mess with your memories to remind you of all the nuances that bother you, and redirect any anger or hatred you feel. But since you pulled the threads—/_

“It not only undid her work, but had my mind hyperfocus on all the things I love about Dean,” Castiel proclaimed. “But… does that make my feelings less true?”

_/In all honesty, even the strongest magic weaver can’t create love. I was teasing you before, because in reality it’s just not feasible. That love was always there, but your mind was unwilling to acknowledge it. It wouldn’t have increased the amount of love you feel, but instead prevent any shadows from obscuring it./_

“You talk like you are a love expert, yet you are also unmated.”

_/That’s because I killed the dragon I thought I was in love with./_

Castiel recoiled, no longer feeling so safe under the drake’s stall. “Is… is that why you got… is that how you were dishonored?”

Gadreel snorted again. _/The opposite. That’s how I got raised into your father’s inner circle of warriors./_

“What? When?”

 _/When you were still a kit,/_ Gadreel said. _/It was during the times when the Babylons were at the height of their power, and humans had grown much faster than they ever had before. My garrison and I would often infiltrate those ancient cities to make sure the humans didn’t get too powerful, and during one of those missions, my… Abner fell in love with his duplicate’s family. So much that he abandoned us all to stay with them./_

“So you killed him?”

Gadreel angrily whinnied and pinned his ears back to his skull. _/I was ordered to do it and had no choice! At first I was just trying to bring him back home, but he wouldn’t let me. He kept screaming about how he had to protect his family and it just… it just made me so mad. I had spent every waking moment trying to plead for his mercy and a second chance, and all he could think about were_ mud monkeys _! He gave me no choice, and when he continued to resist—/_

Gadreel’s bravado faded and he began to shake. _/I… I was so angry at him, and I was used to him being fireproof. I just wanted to snap him back to his senses, but instead I ended up roasting him alive... His screams were so loud./_

Castiel shuddered. “Why didn’t you try to save him?”

 _/I was frozen in fear. By the time I realized what was happening, I was powerless to do anything. All I could do was hope that the fire would kill him quickly./_ Gadreel’s voice sounded dispassionate, making Castiel wonder if he really cared, or if he was still numb from shock despite all the time that had passed. _/Do you know what happened afterwards?/_

Castiel shook his head.

_/Your father promoted me to captain for putting the flock above everything. Over time, he convinced me that Abner was a traitor, that I did the right thing. Eventually twisting my grief and guilt into deep hatred. I was so angry that I didn’t even question what the King wanted when he ordered me to kidnap the human daughter. It wasn’t until another couple of centuries that I realized that it wasn’t just Abner’s surrogate daughter. Countless human children went missing every year and were offered to the King, and with some digging I realized the truth…/_

“The King is absorbing their life force, just as Dean said.” Castiel slowly nodded. Despite wanting to deny the fact, he knew that he had to come to terms with the truth.

His father was a monster.

“What happened to you? If killing Abner promoted you, then how did you… fall?”

_/I told you how I had grown to hate Abner for turning against me. That hatred eventually turned itself onto me, and I stopped caring about my own well being. I stopped caring about anything and anyone, really. Including my sacred duties. After a third failure brought on by apathy, I was cast from my station, and had my wings ripped off as further punishment./_

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about what you discovered?” Castiel complained.

 _/What point is there bringing truth to a bunch of sheep? One call from their shepherd, and they come running back to him, even if he leads them straight to the slaughter./_ Gadreel’s lips curled in disgust. _/I also had no care for either side./_

“Then why do you care now?” Castiel wondered.

_/...Because that human of yours cares so deeply, and selflessly. Loved one or stranger, he will give his all to help them, and it’s refreshing to see. He makes me want to care as well./_

Castiel nodded, sharing a shy smile with the ground because he didn’t want Gadreel to see it and comment on it. Dean was an incredible being.

An incredible being who was relying on him right now.

Forcing himself to be serious, he looked back at Gadreel. “How much do you know about wyverns? Specifically their combat style?”

One of Gadreel’s ears twitched in curiosity. _/For one, only an idiot will kill one./_

“I know that,” Castiel growled. “But some human has one under their control, and I need to find a way to incapacitate it.”

_/Holy oil?/_

“Incapacitate it with materials I can easily get a hold of. I’d have to fly all the way to Jerusalem for a jar of that, especially since it’s outlawed in this land.”

_/Then I’m afraid the only option is not so much trapping it, but making sure that it doesn’t touch you. All it takes is one touch of their talons to kill you./_

Although both dragons and wyvern were digitigrade walkers, the formation of their hindlimbs were different. Dragons had hindlimbs similar to a cat, made for the powerful leaps they needed to get airborne. Since wyverns were lighter and more aerodynamic, their hindlimbs remained more avian. Instead of paws, they had giant talons that were flexible and razor-sharp.

_/Oh, and be careful of their tail./_

Castiel tilted his head, confused as to why he should be concerned about the thin and flexible tail. It didn’t have the muscle and strength behind it like a dragon’s, or even a wyrm’s.

_/Are you really that ignorant? Wyverns have an additional talon hidden within the tip of their tail that is significantly larger than their other talons. You must always keep an eye on their tail, as that is the most likely thing to kill you./_

Castiel nodded, a plan slowly forming in his head. “Thank you, Zeke. I think I’ll be able to work off of that.”

Gadreel’s ears flicked again. _/Why do you call me that now? The human’s name for me?/_

Castiel shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “You seem to appreciate that name, and it seemed like I should give you a fresh start. Gadreel was the drake and traitor. Zeke is a… well, an acerbic and conniving horse. But one that I hope I can be friends with. Or at least have mutual respect for.”

Gadreel was quiet, the only noise Castiel could still hear from him was his soft breathing, and the slow swish of his tail. _/Why did you even come to me for help? I’m sure you would know more about wyverns’ weaknesses just by studying their anatomy. Weren't you the one who said you can know a lot about a creature based on their appearances and their habits?/_

Castiel stared at Gadreel in astonishment. “What do you mean?”

_/They’re nocturnal, Castiel. Process that for a moment./_

Castiel did and he cursed out one of Dean’s favorite phrases: “I am an idiot.”

_/I believe we’ve acknowledged that point before./_

Castiel shook his head, for once not letting the drake’s surly ways affect him. Instead, Castiel ran his hand across the bridge of his nose in gratitude. To his relief, Gadreel didn’t try to bite him, and instead leaned into his touch. “Thank you, Zeke. I have some diagrams to study, and much to discuss with Dean, but I’m more confident than I was before.”

 _/Make sure you get plenty of sunlight,/_ Gadreel warned. _/And if you make it out of this unharmed, I demand sugar cubes after every meal./_

“Deal, but don’t get fat on me. The last thing I need is another equine health lecture from Dean.” Castiel rolled his eyes, but the smile on his lips was genuine.

There was no doubt in his mind now that he and Dean would be able to handle this together.


	27. Let's Review

“Okay, let’s go through the plan again,” Castiel said, tapping on the detailed picture of the wyvern he had drawn earlier.

“Ughhhhhhhhh,” Dean moaned from across the table, rocking his chair back and forth. “We’ve been through this a hundred times already!”

“Actually this is only the fourth time, but it’s the first time that Layla gets to hear it.” He gestured at the blonde, who was sitting next to Dean.

Layla gave a shy smile. “Thank you again for letting me help out.”

“Well, you volunteered your services and had a good plan. Now do you want to go over that?”

Layla nodded. “While you and Dean are doing… whatever it is you’re doing, Mom and I will be at the reverend’s house. Mom’s bringing over her famous lasagna, and I’m bringing along a bottle of wine that’s a lot stronger than the label suggests.”

“Is it really a good idea to have them in the same house as this psycho?” Dean grumbled, slamming his chair so that all four legs were finally on the ground.

“It’s tradition that the family of the healed make a meal in gratitude to Roy and his wife. It would seem strange—or at the very least rude—if Mom and I didn’t go.”

“I’m sure he also needs his ego fed as well,” Dean muttered bitterly.

Castiel bit back his retort, knowing that Dean needed to vent out his anger. The man had wasted at least a week on their journey finding the imposter, and now he had to wait even longer before he could “fix” Castiel.

If that was even possible.

“We really appreciate you helping out, Layla. Just remember that if you don’t feel safe, you are free to head out early. The last thing we want to do is put you in harm’s way.” Castiel said, studying Layla’s body language carefully.

“The one good thing about dealing with a terminal illness is that it makes you a heck of a lot braver,” Layla assured. “I told you before, I don’t care about the risks. I just want to make sure that Roy can’t hurt any more people.”

“Hey, just don’t blame yourself, okay?” Dean said, his angry tone softening as he leaned towards Layla. “Yeah, someone had to die for you to stay alive, but that’s not on you. You’re not the killer here, just the survivor.”

Layla’s lip trembled and she had to take a moment to compose herself. “Thank you, but I’m not going to be brash. Don’t get me wrong, I feel guilty and unworthy of this new life, but I’m not going to take it for granted either.”

Castiel and Dean both nodded, the relief on Dean’s face mimicking what Castiel was feeling.

“Alright, good. Now Dean, what are we going to be doing?”

“Checking out the ‘church’ to see if there’s anything tying the creature there,” Dean replied unenthusiastically. “Though I still don’t know why we don’t just scope out the guy’s house first. It’s more likely to be there.”

“The talisman might be there, but the wyvern will not,” Castiel said. “Wyverns are nocturnal, and are at their most powerful at night. This means it is less susceptible to even blood magic, and all it takes is one touch of the wyvern to kill its victim. I doubt the reverend would risk that, especially when he’s home.”

“And we’re going to directly find the beast because...?”

“Because I can hopefully talk to it and get it to tell me where the talisman might be hiding. If we’re lucky, it will be right on site, and if not then we head to the reverend’s house and wait until they are sleeping off the alcohol.”

“Right, and what happened to no direct contact with this thing, and the whole ‘blending into the shadows’ idea? How are we going to find something that can disappear into the very night? Hell, how are we going to stop it from killing us?”

“For the _fourth_ time, I will be able to incapacitate it with light magic. Since wyvern are nocturnal, their eyes are sensitive to light, and my bright magic will easily be able to blind it. Temporarily, of course—I don’t want to permanently disable it.”

“It can still hear and smell us.”

“Which is limited due to their skull armor,” Castiel pointed out in the drawing, tracing the skeletal armor obscuring most of the wyvern’s head. “They rely mostly on sight and the vibrations they feel along the ground with their tail, which I also have a plan for.”

“Yeah, yeah. Those weird wooden shield things,” Dean groaned. “Look, I’m not usually one to say this, but I think we should bring the Men of Letters into this. There’s a lot riding on this, and one misstep is either going to end in us dead, or a million crazed spooks on the loose. It’s a big risk.”

“We will not be contacting those _wizards_ ,” Castiel growled, feeling his phantom wings puffing up in anger at the mere suggestion. “You know what they would do to the wyvern after subduing it? Keep it in a lab and experiment on it.”

“Better than letting it kill people.”

It has no choice in the matter. It’s as much a victim as Layla is!”

“Are you really comparing a monster to a human?”

“You mean comparing one sentient creature to another? Yes, I am.” Castiel didn’t realize that he had gotten out of his seat until he was halfway across the table and inches away from Dean’s face.

Layla gave an awkward cough. “You know, I think I have my part settled. I should really go help my mom with her lasagna. Let’s regroup closer to nightfall and then talk about any contingency plans.”

The blonde quickly scurried out of the room before either man had a chance to acknowledge her.

“Are you really that upset about me wanting to save a so-called monster? Is that how you view anything that isn’t human or a non-magical creature?” Castiel demanded.

“No, I’m downright _pissed_ that you're throwing yourself into harm’s way again. Fuck, Cas, we came here because your magic and health is on the fritz, and you think you have it in you to take on a friggin’ harbinger of death?” Dean yelled back.

“They are one of my distant kin, and I can’t just stand by and watch them be used like some kind of tool.”

Dean opened his mouth but instead of words, all that came out was unintelligible growls, before he angrily stomped away from the table.

“You can’t just run away from every disagreement!”

“Trust me, _Cas_ , I’m getting out of here before I say something that I regret.”

“Like what? How crazy you think I am? How you regret choosing a broken man as your cleric?”

“I don’t care if you're broken, Cas!” Dean screamed, pivoting back towards Cas. “No matter what, I’m glad that it was you that I picked. I can’t imagine being on the road and in close quarters with someone who _isn’t_ you. You’ve made this whole journey more enjoyable than I thought possible, and you’ve made me smile when I didn’t really think that was possible anymore. Only you could pull that off just by being you.”

Castiel remained focused on one part of Dean’s statement. “You think I’m broken.”

“I think we’re both broken,” Dean admitted. “How can I not be, when part of me hopes that you stay Cas so I don’t have to give you back to Amelia?”

“I’m not a piece of property,” Castiel scowled.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I… fuck, I just want to continue having what we have. I want to keep falling asleep beside you, and waking up tangled up in your arms. I want to make you meals that you appreciate, and have you look at it like it’s some complex skill to master. I want to keep listening to you as you describe the world, and all of the different species living in it. As weird and random as your science lessons are, I love them. Hell, I even love it when we bicker! I like knowing that you don’t take my crap, but at the same time you look at me like I’m this amazing person when I’m really not. I don’t want to lose any of that.”

“You _are_ amazing,” Castiel argued, his anger fizzling out as the need to pull Dean into his arms grew stronger. It only took a couple of seconds for his body to follow through, and to his relief Dean immediately curled into him instead of pushing away. “And no matter what you believe, I hope you understand that I choose you above all else. Nothing is going to change my mind, and it’s not from some misplaced notion that you are my only option. I promise you, I will stay by your side for as long as you allow.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m still worried about your health.”

“My health is fine,” Castiel swore, nuzzling his face close to Dean’s. “My only ailment is my low amount of magic. It’s tedious and a hindrance, but it’s not a current concern. I swear, I’ll let you know the moment that changes.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Dean threatened before slowly relaxing and nuzzling Cas’ face in turn.

Castiel just wanted to spend the rest of the day here in Dean’s arms, but he knew that there was work that still needed to be done.

“Come on,” he said, ruefully removing himself from Dean. “If we want to increase our odds of this mission running smoothly, I have to show you how to use your fire magic correctly.”

Dean quirked his brow. “What makes a cleric think he can teach a wizard a proper fire spell?”

“For one, you barely pass as a wizard. Second, your last fire spell ended in a literal explosion. I’d prefer you learn how to make fire that isn’t ensued by a boom.”

“Touche.”


	28. The Reaper

Despite all the preparations they had done, the one thing Castiel didn’t prepare for was seeing a wyvern through human eyes.

Castiel now understood why Dean grew so angry at his dismissive behavior, of his bravado and assurance that everything would work out just fine. To him, the wyvern were his distant cousins; some of their mannerisms were strange, and there were cultural differences, but for the most part he could still see bits of the family resemblance.

He was also used to them being smaller than him. It was a very different experience to look down at a wyvern instead of looking up.

From above, it was easy to see that the bony covering was not part of the wyvern. At some angles, they even looked ridiculous, like a human child wearing the clothes of their parent.

It was unnerving, viewing them from below. The skeletal armor not only looked better fitted, but it looked like it was a part of the body, transforming the wyvern into a ghastly sight. As if they were some unholy revenant who refused to return to their grave.

The red glow from the wyvern’s eyes only added to the haunting image, despite the fact that Castiel knew it was just a result of the specialized layer on the eyes that reflected light so that they could see better at night. However, seeing the crimson gaze from the sunken eyes of the wyvern’s skull made the creature even more intimidating, and for a moment Castiel forgot all the crucial planning they had done prior.

Dean seemed to have the same problem.

Only while Castiel was petrified by the wyvern’s appearance, Dean grew agitated. He hastily threw Castiel behind him, and brandished a sword at the wyvern. “Hey, ugly! We’re not here for a fight, but that doesn't mean that I’m not prepared for one!”

The wyvern’s answering growl to the cocky threat was enough to snap Castiel into reality. Dean was used to hunting goliaths, but this was not a foe that Dean could take on.

It wasn’t a foe he _should_ take on.

“Dean, no,” Castiel commanded, stepping around him and back into the wyvern’s line of sight. “We’re not here to hurt you, cousin. We’re here to help you. All we need is to find out where the talisman that is controlling you is. We wish to destroy it and the hold it has over you.”

Instead of seeming appeased, the wyvern's growls grew louder, and their tail began to twitch. Dean’s hands clenched tighter around the hilt of his sword, but Castiel put his hand on top of Dean’s elbow.

“Don’t, Dean. You’ll only make them angrier. Put the sword away and focus only on the shield.”

Dean hesitated, fighting between his hunter instincts and his trust in Castiel. For a brief moment it looked like he was going to sheath his sword, but then both of them heard a strange sound, like a rumble of thunder, and Dean’s grip retightened.

With reflexes as swift as lightning, Dean shoved Castiel out of the way and raised his sword in the guard position just as something solid smashed hard against the iron blade, forcing Dean into a crouch to displace the pressure so as not to drop his sword or break a wrist. However, before Dean could rise back to his feet, the heavy weight struck again, knocking the sword to the ground with a loud clatter.

Castiel had a feeling as to what the weapon was that had disarmed the hunter.

“Dean, cover your eyes!” he shouted, quickly reaching into the depths of his grace and flinging all he could forward into a brilliant flash of light.

At full power, that attack could incinerate the target into a pile of ashes.

At his current power, it was enough to temporarily blind the target. Fortunately, the wyvern’s nocturnal eyes were extremely sensitive towards light, and it howled in pain as its retinas burnt.

However, that didn’t stop the metal tip of the wyvern’s tail from slashing wildly in the air, though thankfully missing its mark by a wide margin. The talon that Gadreel had warned them about, but from their current distance looked less like a claw and more like a curved blade. One that was at least twice the size of Dean’s claymore.

From certain angles it looked like the wyvern was swinging a scythe, and Castiel finally understood the true reason they were nicknamed reapers.

“Dean, raise your shield now!” Castiel ordered, doing the same with his own. They were just wooden planks fitted together to be shields, but what made them strong were the wardings that Castiel had painstakingly etched in.

Wardings that would make any weapon that pierced through them be bound to the wood. Even the sickle tail.

Dean was now shieldless, as the wyvern had yanked it out of his grip in an attempt to free the weaponized limb, but it was better than the alternative; the tail would have been sliced through Dean’s jugular if he hadn’t raised his shield up in time.

“How long is that thing going to stay stuck like that?” Dean asked, cautiously backing himself and Castiel further away from the aggravated wyvern.

“Either until I personally remove it, or until I die.”

“No need to get so morbid.”

“More like being honest,” Castiel retorted, trying to circle out of the way of Dean’s protection, but every time he moved, Dean was in his way to block him again. “Will you move? We still need to search the stage.”

“Not my fault that this walking nightmare interrupted us mid-search,” Dean argued, making no attempts to leave his spot in front of Castiel. “Sure we can’t just gank this thing and go?”

“We are not ganking one of my peaceful relatives,” Castiel grumbled before sidestepping and pulling Dean back with him so they could avoid a desperate lunge.

“It’s not looking so peaceful right now,” Dean pointed out.

“That’s because we woke them from their slumber, and also disabled them through magic. Anyone would be irate after that.”

The wyvern lunged for them again, but this time the dragon kin overreached and fell face-first onto the ground. They writhed against the earth as they tried to right themself, but with no forelimbs and an encumbered tail, they were struggling to do so.

“I know you said I can’t kill it, but what about maiming it?” Dean asked, taking the opportunity of the downed wyvern to rescue his sword from the ground. “It can live with a couple more holes in its wings.”

The wyvern screeched angrily, and even Castiel growled. “You will not be touching their wings! Any more damage to those wings is as good as a death sentence.”

“Fine, I’ll improvise then,” Dean snapped before closing his eyes and mumbling strange words under his breath.

Castiel strained to see better, and could make out the green and gold energy of Dean’s magic starting to gather around him and slowly flow towards his sword. With a sharp crackle, the magical energy shot out of Dean’s sword and slammed into the wyvern. The beast let out a pained cry that reverberated into Castiel’s own being, making him cry out in pain as well.

“Fuck!” Dean whirled around to check over Castiel. “Did I accidentally get you? Shit, I haven’t had an accidental backlash charge with that spell in years! It should have only hit Skull Face over there.”

“It… did...” Castiel huffed in pain. His small supply of grace tingled like he was just struck by lightning, and his skin itched to the point where he wondered if he had pests crawling around underneath. “I think my… cousin established a link to me.”

“What?”

“A telepathic link; it’s how we all communicate with one another. If you are close enough, you can even feel their pain.”

“Shit.”

“No, this is a good thing,” Castiel assured him. “If they set up a link, then that means we can talk. However, I need to get close enough for them to hear me.”

“Cas, what the fuck—” But before Dean could get out more, he was startled by the sudden appearance of the wyvern’s tail swooping over his head. The long talon portion was still embedded in the shield, but the wyvern had gotten used to the extra weight, and was able to extend their tail twenty feet.

Castiel took advantage of Dean’s close encounter and ducked out of the way to race over to his kin. The creature was still writhing, and he had to dodge a few limbs and a snapping jaw, but he was able to skirt past all of that and press a hand to the wyvern’s forehead.

_/Peace, my cousin. I am Castiel, Prince of the Dragons, son of King Elyon. I am here to help save you from the wicked human’s clutches./_

To Castiel’s relief, the wyvern froze and stopped their struggle.

_{Is this a trick?}_

Castiel repressed the shudder that traveled through his veins at the wyvern’s voice. Wyverns had an unsettling presence by nature, but this one also carried the weight of a tortured soul. _/No, it’s not. Can you not feel my grace?/_

_{Your grace feels like a dying stream.}_

Castiel couldn’t stop the flinch. _/I am aware. I was in… some sort of altercation with one of my own and it has damaged me. But though little, it is still my grace. I am still a dragon, just as you are still a wyvern, despite what has been done to you./_

_{I am, but at least I am no traitor,}_ the wyvern hissed. _{You are working alongside a hunter! Why should I trust you?}_

_/Because I am the only hope you have left./_

Castiel could feel the scoff of disbelief.

_/You disagree? Tell me, cousin, how long have you been trapped?/_

_{I… I don’t know. Too long.}_

_/Then you are going to need to trust me. Trust me and my intended mate./_

_{Mate!}_ the wyvern snarled, struggling again to stand on their feet, smashing their forehead into Castiel’s nose in the process.

Castiel wasn’t sure if it was done on purpose or not, but he let out a groan of pain and hastily put pressure on the bridge of his nose to stop the torrent of blood that was now streaming down his face.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, and the wyvern growled in warning.

“Dean, don’t get any closer. Just stay out of the way for now, and go find that talisman!”

“Are you crazy? You’re right in the biting zone there!”

“Exactly, which means if you agitate it, I’m the one at risk of being mauled. I have it covered. Now for both of our sakes, stay out of the way!”

Dean mumbled angrily, but Castiel could tell by the angry foot stomping that he had listened.

“Now back to you,” Castiel whispered softly. “I’m going to put my hand back on your head, because I can’t understand you without physical contact. My magic is too low, and our languages are different enough that I need the extra help to understand you.”

The wyvern growled again, but stood still enough for Castiel to re-establish the link.

_{Why should I trust a_ sinner _? You plan to defile yourself, and choose a mud monkey to mate?}_

_/I choose to live a life filled with laughter and love. Something that there has been more of in the past month of my life than the previous four thousand years,/_ Castiel corrected, trying to keep any malice or hurt from leaking through. _/I am also not betraying any potential matches, as I was never intended for one./_

_{So you choose this hunter out of desperation?}_

_/In a way. Not from desperation in that I have no other options and he is better than no one, but in knowing that there is only so much time this human has left on this realm. Their lives are as fleeting as a flame, and I don’t have time to waste on speculations and caution./_

The wyvern wasn’t as good at masking their feelings. _{He’s a hunter.}_

_/A hunter who is trying to set you free. He only hunts monsters, and though you’ve killed, you are not a monster./_

_{How do you know that I didn’t enjoy those kills? You don’t know anything about me.}_

Castiel paused and studied the wyvern’s haggard appearance. _/If you enjoyed the killings, your body wouldn’t be decomposing the way it is. I might not know much about you—I don’t even know your name—but I do know that you are not a killer./_

The wyvern slowly pulled their wings in closer to their body, like they were hugging themself for reassurance. _{Tessa. My name is Tessa.}_

_/Well, Tessa, my human’s name is Dean, and we are going to do whatever it takes to set you free so that you can get back home to your flock—I mean colony./_

_{Thank you… Though I should inform you that you won’t find it here. The human that controls me wears it around her neck at all times.}_

“Wait, _her_ neck?” Castiel gasped aloud before turning towards Dean. “Dean! It’s not the reverend who’s doing all this! It’s the wife! The talisman must be her necklace.”

“What? How the hell do you even know all of that?”

“Tessa told me.”

“Tessa? … The wyvern’s name is Tessa. Okay,” Dean said, his voice heavy with skepticism. “You talk to both horses and wyverns.”

“I can only talk to dragon kin, Dean.” Castiel turned back to Tessa. _/I’m sorry about all of this. We will go after this human and destroy her hold over you./_

_{We’ll see,}_ Tessa scoffed. _{I believe you will find it, but I don’t believe you will destroy it when it is in your hands. What’s to stop you or your hunter from using it for your own gain?}_

Castiel glowered at the wyvern, offended by her remarks, and some of that emotion snuck into the connection. _/I would never do that!/_

_{Even to save yourself? You can’t lie to me, Castiel of Elyon. With your grace so low, you will be dead by the next revolution around the sun. With my power, you can cure yourself.}_

Castiel growled, _/Not at the cost of another’s life!/_

_{People’s convictions change once power is in their hands.}_

Castiel snarled, _/I am a_ healer _! A particularly studious one at that, and I know how to save myself! It will take time, and be no easy task, but I will do it without risking innocent lives. Including your own./_

_{If you really want me to trust you, then you’re going to need to trust me. My eyesight will recover in time, but I need that blasted thing you have on my thagomizer off so I can have full mobility of my tail back.}_

_/Your tail-talon is called a thagomizer?/_

_{We decided it sounded more intimidating than a tail-talon, and it looked similar enough to the thagomizers of ancient stegosauruses._

For a second, Castiel wondered why they didn't just call it a scythe before realizing that the wyverns might find it insulting to name their deadliest weapon after a human farming tool. He chose not to remark, and instead carefully maneuvered around Tessa’s form—with one hand on her at all times so she was aware of his movements—and once he reached her tail he removed the shield. She immediately sprang to her feet, and Dean let out a cry of alarm.

“It’s fine, Dean. Tessa’s not going to hurt us. Isn’t that right?”

To both men’s surprise, Tessa rested her head overtop Castiel in a clear display that she meant no harm.

_{You have until sunup to get the talisman away. The human that controls me is foolish, but not an idiot. If she knows you are onto her then she will send me after you, and I will kill you if she does that. At night I have some resistance, but in the day I’m at her mercy.}_

Castiel sent her an affirmation before looking over at Dean, who was still watching Cas with a flabbergasted expression. “We should leave now. The magic controlling Tessa is at its weakest when the sun is down, and if we wait too long we might have to fight Tessa to the death.”

“Which you said is a lose-lose.” Dean groaned. “Come on, let’s go.”

Castiel nodded and began moving forward, but was jerked to a stop when a mouth grabbed the back of his cloak. Confused, he tried to turn around to face Tessa, but froze at the feeling of the thagomizer to his throat.

“Cas!” Dean yelped in horror.

_{I changed my mind. Sorry, Castiel, but I just can’t risk it,}_ Tessa said, sending genuine sorrow through the connection. _{I just can’t trust you, not when you align yourself to the very creatures that did this to me.}_

“What… what do you want?” Castiel said carefully, his voice coming out even rougher than usual because of the extra pressure to his trachea.

_{I want your hunter to fetch the talisman and return it to me. Once it’s in my grasp, I’ll let you go. But if he tries to trick or double-cross me…}_ She pressed the thagomizer harder against his throat, giving Castiel an awful feeling of dejavu _. {Well, then it won’t take a full revolution for you to die after all.}_

“I understa—Dean, don’t do that!” Castiel hollered, noticing the glow of Dean’s magic starting up again. “Tessa does not intend to hurt me—”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure this is just the wyvern version of a hug,” Dean bit out sarcastically.

“No, she’s using me as insurance. You’re going to need to find that talisman yourself, and she’ll let me go once you’ve returned it to her.”

“You expect me to just leave you here and—”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I expect you to do,” Castiel snapped. “Please, Dean, this is the best option for everyone. Now don’t waste time arguing, and get on the road already.”

Dean hesitated.

“Tessa, at least lower the blade,” Castiel both said and projected to Tessa. “He’s not going to leave if he thinks you’ll kill me the moment he’s gone.”

Tessa growled, but lowered her thagomizer towards his femoral artery instead.

Castiel hoped Dean didn’t realize that was still a lethal spot.

“I’ll be okay, Dean. Just trust me. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back to me.”

Dean nodded, but even in the dim light from their abandoned lamps, Castiel saw the terror and doubt in his eyes.

“Go!” Castiel roared, and to his relief Dean did just that, only stopping long enough to grab his own lamp. He continued watching him until he was long out of sight.

_{I hope for your sake that he returns. I don’t want to hurt you, son of Elyon, but I will.}_

_/I’m not worried. I trust Dean./_


	29. Practice What You Preach

By the time Dean returned, it was to the sight of Castiel with a wyvern encircling him, her sheathed tail wrapped around his waist, and Zeke laying down with his head in Castiel’s lap. Castiel's right hand was stroking the bridge of Zeke’s nose, while his left was massaging one of Tessa’s giant toes. No one made an effort to move when they heard Dean approach, but Zeke’s ear twitched, and Tessa let out a warning growl.

Dean froze at the gate entrance, and even held his lantern further out as if he was trying to process what he was seeing.

“Zeke got lonely when you took Baby, so he wandered over. Oh, and he’s not feeling sick, he’s just lying down because he was in REM sleep before, and decided he didn’t feel like getting up,” Castiel explained.

“I’m actually more concerned about the wyvern constricting you.”

Tessa hissed.

“We were all talking about our youth and agreed that we missed family cuddle piles, and I offered my services. Tessa also didn’t believe the perks of human hands, so I demonstrated what a foot massage is, and that made Zeke jealous… and… well, cuddle pile.”

“This month keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Dean said, slowly shaking his head. “Anyway, I got the stupid talisman, so tell Tess or whatever to let you go.”

A growl rumbled in Tessa’s chest, and Castiel slowly patted her leg. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye forever, if that’s what you’re concerned about. While I am annoyed that you threatened me, I do understand why you felt the need to do so.”

The growl slowly turned into a purr as she unwrapped her tail and got off the ground. Her vision had returned so it was much easier to maneuver again. Within seconds she disappeared into the darkness, only to reappear in front of Dean.

Castiel could feel the wave of amusement from Tessa at the way Dean jumped and cursed at her.

“Friggin’ creepy, that’s what you are,” Dean complained before fishing the talisman from his pocket. “Here. And by the way, let me tell you it was not easy getting that off of Roy’s wife. Had to use every pickpocket trick in the book to pull it off.”

“Though you aren't as clever as you think you are, I’m afraid,” a woman’s voice growled, its source slowly coming into view. It was Roy’s wife, a terrified Layla pinned against her with a dagger against her throat. “Now I kindly ask you to return what’s mine, or your little accomplice here gets it.”

“I’m sorry,” Layla whimpered. “Sue Ann realized real quick what had happened, and she threatened that she’d hurt my mom. Dean, she’s a witch; I wasn’t sure what else she could do.”

Dean seemed stunned and Tessa took advantage of the confusion to shift into the shadows again.

“If you think you can control that monster, boy, you’re mistaken. You might hold that talisman, but it's mixed with my blood as well. That means no one can use that hellspawn but me,” Roy’s wife growled.

“Why did you do all of this?” Castiel demanded.

“Because my husband was dying,” Sue Ann spat out. “He was dying and no one could figure out how to help him; even clerics were useless. I knew that if light magic couldn’t save him then dark magic would. One of my ancestors was a powerful witch and I hunted through her spellbooks until I eventually found one that could save him. All I needed to do was summon and control my very own reaper.”

“Then why didn’t you stop after Roy was safe?” Castiel pressed.

“Who gives up the power of a god once they have it?” Sue Ann laughed. “I had the power to heal the sick and punish the wicked in one fell swoop!”

“Why make Roy your front man?” Dean asked.

“Poor Roy always wanted to be a cleric. Always felt a calling to be one, but didn’t have a drop of magical blood in him. He doesn’t even know I come from a dark magic line, since I wasn’t sure how he would take it. So when he woke up convinced that he’d finally tapped into his secret power, I didn’t have the heart to break the illusion. Instead, I helped turn him into the most popular cleric in all of America.”

“Not really,” Dean taunted. “I was on the lookout for one of the best, and I was directed to Jimmy Novak, not to Roy.”

“And yet you still ended up here for our help,” Sue Ann replied coolly. “Now stop wasting my time and hand over that talisman. I’ll even heal that friend of yours as a bonus. I can tell that his days are numbered already.”

Dean tensed, appearing to have stopped breathing. “What?”

“Your friend over there. He’s down to four hundred and something days left on his clock. A little over a year.” Sue Ann tried to sound sympathetic, but the illusion was ruined by the way her lips kept twitching up in a gleeful smirk.

“How the fuck do you even know that?”

“The perk of having tied myself to a reaper. I can see the ‘clocks’ of the dying. It’s how I know where to seat people for the service. I put those with less time in the front, and those with more time in the back. That, and how I prevent frauds from being in attendance. But it’s all on Roy to pick at random the one who gets to be healed.”

“Then who picks who dies?” Castiel asked, hoping to distract both Sue Ann and Dean.

“I do, but don’t worry, the only people who die are sinners.”

“Sinners, or people who oppose you?” Castiel demanded.

Sue Ann grimaced. “I believe we’ve already wasted enough time here. Now hand over that talisman, or Layla here goes to heaven after all.”

To further her threat, she pressed the blade deeper against Layla’s throat until blood began to trickle down her neck.

Layla didn’t make a sound, looking too shocked to fully process the pain, but frightened tears were falling from her eyes.

“Okay, just leave Layla alone!” Dean said, holding his hands over his head in surrender, the talisman held loosely in his right hand. “But at least drop that knife before I come any closer.”

Sue Ann studied him, then slowly dropped the knife. “That was just for show anyway. I don’t need that flimsy thing to kill her.”

Layla let out a startled sob, but made no effort to try to escape Sue Ann’s grasp.

“Don’t worry, Layla. Everything is going to be fine. I promise you, you didn’t make it this far to just die in this shithole,” Dean swore, slowly edging closer to Sue Ann, the talisman still above his head.

Until it wasn’t.

One second it was there, the next a giant shadow passed over it, and then it was gone.

“Wha—” Sue Ann started to say before also being spirited away into the shadows, leaving emptiness behind Layla. When Sue Ann did reappear, it was on the stage near Castiel and Zeke, followed by Tessa.

Tessa had the talisman in her mouth, her eyes glowing red, and her thagomizer proudly raised.

“No, don’t!” Sue Ann shrieked, but Tessa paid her no mind.

Tessa spat the necklace onto the ground and quickly pulverized it with the blade of her tail. It sparked and fizzled as the magic holding it together faded, and Tessa was enveloped in a cocoon of light. When it faded, Tessa looked like a proper wyvern again. Her scales were back to a midnight black, her skeletal armor ivory and sturdy, even the holes in her wings repaired.

Sue Ann’s fate was the opposite, her body slowly shriveling away as she screamed in terror. By the time she collapsed on the floor, her body looked like a corpse that had been left to rot for weeks.

Layla screamed, and Dean hugged her close to his chest.

Castiel gave them a quick glance before turning his attention back to Tessa. “Is it finally over? Are you free to return home?”

Tessa nodded her giant head, flinging her wings wide open. _{Yes, it looks like the damage that the witch had caused me was healed in exchange. I’ll be able to fly long distances again!}_

Zeke eyed her wings, and Castiel felt a pang of pity for his new ally as he realized that Zeke would never be able to fly again.

“Before you go, can you be sure to—”

_{Of course, I will tell the Grim that you wish to have a meeting with him. Though he’s a busy wyvern. The chances of you speaking to him in the next year is slim.}_

“That is alright, as long as I can talk to him by April.”

“W-who is he talking to?” Layla asked Dean.

“Shhh. He does this from time to time. Just let him be,” Dean admonished.

_{Do you really have that much time?}_

Castiel scoffed. “I’m not dying. Yes, grace is tied with lifeline, but what you keep seeing is the amount of grace that I have left at this very moment in time. It’s enough to keep me alive for over a year, but what you failed to take into account is that each day it replenishes, so the countdown is at a permanently fixed point. It will always be 460 days away, never counting down to zero. All that I require is a way to patch the leaks, and I will be fine.”

Tessa looked uncertain, but nodded her head anyway. _{Alright, I’ll also tell my kin to be on the lookout for any suspicious behavior from the dragons. At the very least, I can prevent my colony from agreeing to a pointless war.}_

“Thank you, Tessa.”

_{No, thank you for setting me free. I just wish I had the kind of grace that could help you… though I suppose you could absorb some life force yourself if you need an extra boost.}_

“I’d prefer not to do that,” Castiel declined politely, inwardly fighting off his revulsion from making itself known on his face.

_{Just keep it in mind in case you find yourself with no other alternative. There’s no point in dying over flimsy morals.}_ Tessa spread her wings wide and vanished before their eyes.

“Is it… gone?” Layla asked hesitantly.

“Yes, _she_ went back home. Which is something we should all be doing,” Castiel said, nudging Zeke so that he would follow him over towards Layla and a rather pissed-off-looking Dean.

Dean untangled himself from comforting Layla to march over to Cas. “What the hell were you going on about before? I thought you said you’d tell me if there was anything to worry about!”

“And I will.”

“I’m sorry, but when a fucking witch says you’re dying, I think that counts as something to worry about!”

“Are you trusting a witch’s word over my own?”

“I don’t know, Cas; it’s not like you’ve been making much sense lately, either.”

_/He does have a point,/_ Zeke unhelpfully added.

Castiel had to remind himself that speaking to the horse wasn’t going to help in this argument.

“Hey,” Layla said softly, shakily getting up onto her own feet, hand still clamped over her cut. “You said before that you needed something to fix yourself up. What is it? Is it something you can find easily?”

“Honestly? What I need is a power-up of some sort. If I can find hallowed ground I should be able to finally heal the damage.”

“Hallowed ground?” Layla broke in again. “Like churches?”

Castiel turned a bored eye to her. “Most churches are man made, not holy in the regard that I’m talking about. I need land known for its miracles.”

“Like a healing spring?”

Castiel inwardly hissed at the word spring, knowing that it was referring to the wet kind instead of the mating season. “I suppose if it is proven to cause real miracles, and not just another fraud using dark magic, then it will be fine.”

Layla flinched at his curt wording. “I’m obviously not the best judge of that, but I heard that there’s a spring about a hundred or so miles away, right near the border of Ohio and Pennsylvania. It’s called Frankfort Springs and… well, it was the next place Mom and I were going to check out if the reverend didn’t work. Maybe it can help you?”

Dean perked at the location. “Hey, we have to go through Pennsylvania anyway, so we might as well check it out.”

Castiel studied Dean. “If I say no, you’ll just ‘conveniently’ plot our route so we have to pass through there anyway, won’t you?”

“Did you really have to use finger quotes for that?” Dean groaned. “And don’t be a dumbass, it’s not out of the way and it doesn’t hurt to check it out.”

“It could still be a waste of a couple of days.”

“I don’t see why you aren’t taking advantage of this, Cas. You’re fucking living on borrowed time!”

“No, I’m living on an infinitely fixed point _in_ time—”

“Yeah, for now, but what the hell are you going to do if we run into a baddie that burns more of that grace of yours? Or if that steady stream of magic you’re counting on suddenly dries up? There’s too many fucking risks involved, and it’s not like we’ll be able to double back in the future. So what’s the harm in us going now?”

“The harm is that I’m already costing you enough delays!”

“You aren’t costing me anything that I’m not willing to pay!”

“Guys, can I make a suggestion?” Layla asked, looking uncomfortable by their fight.“If you are heading in that direction anyway, why not just head that way, and continue to discuss the pros and cons of going while on the road. If there are more pros, then you go through. If there are more cons, then you avoid it.”

Castiel could find no real argument against that, and neither did Dean, so they both reluctantly agreed.

“Great. Now that that’s settled, would you boys mind taking me back home?” Layla requested. “Mom thought that Sue Ann only took me to find the good silverware in her attic, and I can’t imagine what she’s been going through once she realized we were both gone.”

Dean looked back to the stage where Sue Ann’s corpse laid. “Yeah, I’m not really sure how we’re going to explain any of this.”

“We can try telling the truth?” Castiel supplied.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure Roy is going to take that well. ‘Hey, not only is your wife dead, but she was also this psycho witch with a penchant for playing god.’ ”

“He still deserves to know what happened.”

“Cas, the man is old, blind, and now a widower. He doesn’t need any more heartache.”

“Maybe it’s best to just let him believe what he wants to believe,” Layla suggested. “I’ll tell them what I witnessed, and that it was a wyvern that killed Sue Ann. A wyvern whom she made a deal with, her husband’s life in exchange for her own. At least then he can properly mourn her without questioning everything he knew.”

“I guess that is a close truth,” Castiel admitted.

“What’s this ‘I’ll tell them’ thing?” Dean challenged.

“Exactly what I meant. You two have enough to worry about, and you don’t need to be up half the night going over what happened. So what you’ll be doing is dropping me off at Roy’s—I’d ride myself, but I don’t know how Sue Ann’s horse will handle a new rider and I don’t want to run the risk of it bucking me off—and then head back to that inn of yours to rest up until you can hit the road again.”

“When did you get so bossy?” Dean teased. “But alright. The horses need the rest more than we do, and it’s not fair to keep them up for much longer.”

“Exactly.” Layla smiled. “And I’m not bossy, I’m just the only one here who knows how to prioritize and compromise.”

Dean sputtered in indignation, and Castiel felt his phantom tail twitch angrily.

Layla laughed. “It’s okay, I get it. Honestly, it’s adorable that you love each other so much that you are more focused on each other’s needs than your own. But sometimes you need to look at the bigger picture and realize that it’s not selfish to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, hear that, Cas?” Dean demanded.

“This sounds like you're goading me into doing exactly what you want me to do,” Castiel complained.

“I wouldn’t need to _goad_ you if you just learned how to stop being so stubborn.”

“Hypocritical for you to say something like that, considering how asinine you can be.”

“The only type of ass I am is kickass.”

“I think you meant to use the word _jack_ instead of _kick_.”

Dean let out a frustrated growl, arms reaching out towards Castiel to either shake him in frustration, strangle him, or hold him tight. Before Castiel could find out which, they were interrupted by a shrill whistle.

“Boys! You two can continue your lover’s quarrel later, but I want to go home now!”

Embarrassed, both men stepped away from each other, only sparing the other a quick glance to acknowledge that they would sort their concerns out later.

“How good of a rider are you, Layla? Do you feel comfortable enough to ride on your own?” Dean asked.

Layla shook her head. “I usually travel in carriages, and the only times I have been on a horse has been for short periods.”

“That’s what I thought. Luckily, we have one giant horse, and both me and Baby are used to ponying.”

Both Layla and Castiel looked at Dean in confusion.

Dean shook his head. “City folk, I tell ye. Zeke is a big boy, so he can carry both you and Cas. Meanwhile, me and Baby will be leading Sue Ann’s horse alongside us.”

Castiel turned to Zeke. “Are you opposed to that?”

Zeke’s ears quirked. _/I’m already used to being your packmule;, the girl’s extra weight won’t be noticeable./_

“I’m more concerned with you bucking her off.”

_/If I haven’t bucked_ you _off yet then I wouldn’t do it to the poor girl./_

Castiel hoped that meant that Zeke still wouldn’t buck him off in the future. In his current shape that could do a lot of damage, and Castiel would heal at a rate even slower than a human’s.

“I guess Zeke gave the go-ahead? Then let’s get this show on the road, and then get our asses to bed,” Dean proclaimed.

The thought of bed was all the encouragement Castiel needed, and the rest of the ride was spent mostly in comfortable silence. Even when Layla was dropped off, there was little fanfare, but she made them promise to stop by her own lodging before heading off to Pennsylvania that afternoon. They only stayed by Roy’s house long enough to inform him of his wife’s passing, and to return the horse to him.

The ride back to the inn was still silent, but this time haunted by the memories of the broken sounds that came out of Roy’s mouth when he learned that his wife was no more. They were quiet when settling their horses in for the night, the few words that were spoken the gentle praise and whispers to the great beasts for their hard work. The silence was only broken when they fell into bed together, Dean letting out a sound between a sob and a growl, clutching tightly at Castiel.

“You swear that you’re not dying?” he demanded, one hand securely holding Castiel’s face so that he couldn’t look away.

“I’m not dying. Dying means a continuous state of decay as the body starts failing, and I’m far from that,” Castiel reasoned. “I just… have to be sparing with how I use my magic, and make sure I get plenty of sunlight.”

“Good. And I swear, if I catch you trying to use magic, I’m going to…” But Dean didn’t have any adequate threats to tack onto that.

“Instead of threatening me, why don’t you promise me something?” Castiel asked, weaving his hands through Dean’s short hair so that Dean couldn’t look away either.

“I thought I already promised you that we’ll get dragon-married if you turn out to be a dragon?” Dean teased, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes, but I want you to touch me more as well.”

Dean seemed to choke on his own saliva and forcefully put distance between the two of them so he could regain control from his coughing outbursts. “W-what?”

“I want you to touch me,” Castiel repeated, sliding back towards Dean. “During the night you aren’t afraid to wrap yourself around me, but once we leave the bed you treat me like an acquaintance. You barely even hold my hand.”

“Cas, I…” Dean shook his head. “We talked about this.”

“No, you told me that the only reason you don’t want this is because you still think that I might be Jimmy. You’re so afraid of me waking up and deciding that I don’t want you, that you feel the need to keep me at arm’s length.”

Dean looked across the arm’s length of space that they currently had between them. “I just… good things don’t happen to me, Cas.”

“Good things don’t happen to me either, and there is a lot that we still need to accomplish in a short amount of time that makes many things in our situation ‘not good.’ However, getting to know you _is_ good. Getting to hold you...” Castiel slowly enveloped Dean and guided him back towards his chest, “...is much better. But to have you? To truly have you in every way imaginable, and for you to be fully accepting of me? That will be the greatest thing. So maybe we shouldn’t just strive for the good, and instead try to achieve greatness.”

“Don’t you get it, Cas? You already _are_ one of the best things that ever happened to me! But good things don’t happen, so that means something is going to give and then I’ll lose you!” Dean yelled, weakly struggling to get away before giving in and burying his face into Castiel’s chest instead. “Don’t make me lose you.”

Castiel used one hand to stroke through Dean’s hair, and the other to gently massage his neck. “Maybe I do owe you a compromise.”

Dean made a noise at the back of his throat, but Castiel was unsure if it translated to a sarcastic “Ya think?” or a serious noise of agreement.

“I promise to not only head to the springs, but I also won’t complain about how much time we are wasting—”

“I like this plan already.” Dean smirked, looking up from Castiel’s chest.

“Hush. I was going to say that I would be on my best behavior, and take your concerns more seriously. But in exchange, I want you to stop acting like what we have is doomed before it can even start. I _want_ you to reach out for my hand whenever you want. I _want_ you to find excuses to invade my personal space. And I really would appreciate it if you kissed me again.”

Dean was silent, and Castiel worried he’d pushed his agenda too far. Or maybe he had misinterpreted how Dean felt about him. Hundreds of doubts and insecurities flooded Castiel’s head, so much so that he missed Dean’s response and could only see the way his mouth formed over the words.

“What?”

Dean huffed. “I said, I guess you’re right. What’s the point in pretending that we don’t have a connection?”

Castiel hummed in approval, enjoying the fact that his future mate acknowledged the connection.

“And you’re right, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to do again,” Dean said, his voice so soft that it was almost a whisper.

Dean slowly moved up Castiel’s chest, every brush of his skin sending Castiel’s own ablaze, until his face was inches away from Castiel’s lips. Dean hesitated for only a second before cupping Castiel’s face in his hands and bringing him closer so that their lips could meld.

Their second kiss was just as earth-shattering as the first, but this time it slowly morphed into the third and fourth kiss, and so on until Castiel was so deliriously drunk on kisses that he lost count.

Castiel certainly got the better end of the deal, and gladly drowned himself in the feelings that were Dean.


	30. Five Star Inn

Despite Dean’s assurance that they would reach the town of Frankfort in three days’ time, it actually took a week. The journey was made slower by terrain that was rougher than the flatlands of the Midwest, and the more frequent appearance of monsters as the landscape provided thicker forests for them to hide in. By the time they had located an inn, Castiel was hungry, dirty, and exhausted to the very depths of his bones. Yet that exhaustion immediately dissipated when he noticed the two stars carved onto the sign. One of them was a pentagram star, and the other was a six-sided star known as the Aquarius star.

One star represented hunters, the other wizards. This inn was a designated meeting spot location for both.

“Neat,” Dean crowed, not feeling the same trepidation that Castiel faced. “It’s been forever since I got to stay in a five-star inn. Get it? Five stars?”

“There’s… there’s also a sixth star as well,” Castiel forced himself to say calmly, when every instinct was telling him to turn around.

“Yeah, it’s not too often you get both a hunter and an MoL lounge. A place like this existing means there must be a magical hotspot.”

“Perhaps there is some merit to the healing spring after all.”

“Has to be for MoL to be here. Hunters follow any rumor, but MoL only show up when there’s lots of evidence to back it up,” Dean said before smirking at Cas. “Come on, let’s go get the horses dealt with and then get ourselves a room.”

Castiel numbly followed after Dean, trying to think up a decent excuse as to why they shouldn’t stay here without bringing up his true origins. Dean might still think he was delusional, but a hunter or wizard wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap and interrogate him.

The inside of the “five-star” inn was similar to the other inns they stayed at, with the ground floor being a tavern/dining hall and the upstairs leading to private rooms to stay overnight. Dean ushered Castiel to sit down at the bar so that he could go hunt down the owner and book them a stay while also bartering for a cheaper room. Dean had done this routine dozens of times, but this time the sight of Dean walking away sent Cas into a panic.

Rationally, he knew that no one was looking too closely at him, just the curious glance of strangers trying to sort him out, but Castiel felt like they would notice everything alien about him. The stiff way that he moved, the way his shoulders slouched low as if they were still carrying the immense weight of his wings, how he didn’t blink as frequently as he should—something Dean had described as creepy—and there was no telling if the high-level wizards could pick up his grace signature, no matter how feeble it was now.

He tried to calm himself down by reminding himself that Dean couldn’t see magical signatures, so neither should other wizards. But Dean was only a wizard in the amount of power he had, and the damage he could cause with it. Dean lacked the precision and discipline of a fully trained wizard, and there was no telling what someone like a Man of Letters was capable of.

Perhaps they could even see beyond his human shell, and see the dragon that was crammed inside. The thought alone made him nauseous.

“You okay, bud?” a young woman’s voice interrupted his thoughts. She was a blonde, barely in her twenties, and had big brown eyes that watched him curiously from behind the bar counter.

“I-I’m—” Castiel had to take a breath to steady himself. “Just feeling under the weather. My partner and I have been on the road for the week, and I think I just need a day or so to recover.”

The woman nodded, slowly drying a glass. “A week, huh? Where did you come from?”

“Recently from a little town in East Ohio, but our journey originally began in Pontiac, Illinois a couple of months back.”

The woman whistled. “No kidding? No wonder you’re exhausted. Do you and your… partner plan to grab anything to eat or drink, or do you intend to nap first?”

Castiel wanted the excuse to hide, but he knew that Dean was hungry and would want to eat. They could go their separate ways, but Castiel didn’t like the idea of being alone, especially if Dean got distracted by chatting with the locals like he was notorious for doing. The man was so charismatic that he could get anyone chatting and laughing for hours, and Castiel’s overactive imagination supplied plenty of ideas about what could happen to him during that time.

Castiel usually wouldn’t be so paranoid, but he had never been as vulnerable as he was currently. He only had enough grace to perform one magical act a day, a limitation he hasn’t had since he was a dragonling.

“We’ll eat, please. Can I have two cheeseburgers, and two glasses of water?” Castiel asked.

Dean would be annoyed that Castiel was getting him water at a bar, but the man needed to stay hydrated and it made Castiel feel better to know that Dean would have his full wits about him.

The bartender shot Castiel her own surprised look, but shrugged before pulling out a pitcher of water. “Here, you two can go crazy and drink the whole thing. It’ll take a bit for the burgers, though.”

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled as best he could and poured himself a glass to drink. He wished it would burn like alcohol, but he especially needed to stay sober.

He was debating on whether or not he could ask the bartender if she knew anything about how many hunters and wizards stayed in the area—after all, there was a possibility that there were rare encounters—but before he got up the nerve, Dean slid into the seat next to him.

“Sorry, bud, looks like we’re stuck on clean-up and kitchen duty, but we only have to pay twenty coppers a day instead of full price,” Dean informed him, before catching a glimpse of the water pitcher and staring at it in horror. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s called water, Dean.”

“No shit, I mean why are you having water in a friggin’ bar?”

“Because it’s still early in the day and we need to stay hydrated.”

Dean made a face. “You sound just like my brother.”

“Then it seems that you are outnumbered.” Castiel gently nudged the pitcher over. “I can’t heal you daily anymore, so at least let me take care of you the only way I currently can.”

Dean huffed, but he did pour himself a glass and take a sip. “Did you get us food?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Do you have any faith in me? Yes, a cheeseburger.”

“Just one?”

“Suppertime isn’t that far off. You can wait until then.”

“Ugh. I take it back; you’re worse than Sammy.”

The bartender giggled over their chatter. “You two are adorable. How long have you been together?”

Dean turned red, pulling nervously at his shirt like it was too tight around the neck. “Umm? We’ve been on the road for a while now, but the… _together_ thing is kinda new. Wait, how did you even know—”

“Know you two were an item?” She smiled cheekily. “It ain’t hard to see, especially with the way you both look at each other. Pretty sure you both forgot I was here.”

Castiel admittedly did.

Dean’s face was still red, but he did his best to shrug it off. “Well since you are clearly here and not invisible, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Depends on whether or not I like the question, and whether or not you’ll like the answer,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I noticed the carvings. You serve both hunters and wizards, which is rare enough, but you also serve high-level wizards. Makes me wonder if you guys just have some of the best beds around, or if you guys have…you know, something extra.”

“Well, we do have more than just good beds,” the bartender said, leaning in closer as if to whisper a secret to them. “We also have damn good booze and burgers.”

Dean laughed. “You know what, I like you, blondie. But we both know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“Dean is a hunter and has wizardry roots,” Castiel explained, hoping that just admitting what they were would bring less attention to them. People always paid more attention to mysteries. “And I’m his cleric.”

“Wow.” The bartender seemed impressed. “Clerics are rare enough, but you never hear of a hunter with a wizard bloodline. I thought wizards didn’t intermix.”

“They usually don’t, but my parents were rebels.” Dean shrugged and took a drink from his glass. “I’m actually running low on supplies, and wanted to know if you might have a supplier nearby.”

“What do you need?”

“Arrows. A new crossbow, and a bunch of specialized bolts to go with it.” Dean raised his fingers to count them off. “I need iron-tipped, silver-tipped, and it never hurts to have some witch-killers as well.”

“That’s going to cost you some pretty silvers, and no offense, but it doesn’t look like you can afford it.”

“Offense taken!” Dean complained.

“Look, you seem nice, but if you couldn’t even afford the price of Mom’s rooms without a discount—”

“Your mother owns this place?”

“Yep, Harvelle Inn and Tavern, though most people just call this the Roadhouse. Oh, and I’m Jo, by the way.”

“Dean Winchester, and this is—”

“Jimmy Novak,” Castiel broke in. He didn’t need anyone overhearing a dragon name. “But don’t be surprised if you hear Dean call me Cas. It’s a nickname between the both of us. My real name is Jimmy. Or rather, James.”

Jo and Dean both gave him a weird look, and Castiel realized he wasn’t so good with the lying thing.

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat to drive the attention back to himself. “Don’t mind him. He’s been fighting a bad illness for the past couple of weeks. Kinda scrambled his mind in the process. It’s one of the reasons we came to this area.”

“Oh, you’re one of the ‘miracle seekers.’ Well, you can join the club, that’s why we have so many hunters and wizards come through this area,” Jo said with an eyeroll.

“So does it work?” Dean asked.

“For the most part. There’s something about this land that just makes everything…well, a little bit more.”

“More?” Castiel asked, curious.

Jo shrugged. “It’s hard to explain, but…in this town things just work a little bit better. Crops are more bountiful, the water tastes a little fresher, joints don’t ache as much, people don’t really get sick, and wizards claim that their spells are even more powerful here. The only thing that makes sense is if it has something to do with the water.”

“Does it actually heal major problems? Like someone-close-to-death problems,” Dean asked, clutching his glass tight.

“Not from the pipe water, but I heard rumors that going to the source will do that.”

“Rumors,” Dean repeated with a raised brow. “There’s all these hunters and MoL here, and it’s still just a rumor?”

“There’s a bit of an issue. No one ever returns from the top of the peak. Not in the past three years. Every now and then a brave hunter goes to try and investigate, but they never come back.”

“What about the Men of Letters?” Castiel asked.

Jo and Dean both laughed, but Castiel failed to see the comedy of the situation.

“Wizards don’t get their hands dirty,” Dean explained. “They prefer to document monsters and collect magical samples, but they don’t engage in any combat.”

“Oh, some of us don’t mind getting our hands dirty,” an accented voice said behind them, and Castiel stiffened as he felt a brush of hostile magic.

The magic was steel blue and gray, and would have been beautiful if it wasn’t for the black stain weaving itself through the magic like necrotic tissue. Residues like that only appeared when the magic was used to kill other magical users. Specifically innocent magic users… magic users who could very well have been Castiel’s kin.

Castiel fought back a shudder, leaning his leg as close to Dean as possible. Dean gave him a concerned glance before turning around to face the speaker.

“Huh, and who exactly are you?” Dean asked, and Castiel knew without looking that his intended mate was studying the wizard, trying to identify him as a threat or an ally. “And since when did the MoL have fighters on their side?”

“My name is Ketch. Arthur Ketch, and I’m as much of an enigma as you. I’m from both an old wizardry bloodline and a witch bloodline. Personally, I call myself a blood mage.”

Castiel’s skin crawled at the title and he couldn’t fight his curiosity; he looked up to catch a glimpse of the man behind him. To his surprise, he looked like an ordinary man not too much older than Dean. The only things that really stood out about him were the gray fur cloak he wore with a golden clasp in the shape of the Aquarius star, and the giant cross-shaped staff in his hands.

Dean snickered at said staff. “What, is that your cross to bear or something?”

“It’s actually blessed metal, composed of equal parts silver and iron so it can do damage to both types of monsters,” Ketch stated, sounding bored. “Not to mention that it was designed to do this.”

In one quick movement, Ketch shifted his hands from the shaft of the staff right to the tip of the cross, using it as a hilt and pointing the staff up to reveal the deadly point that was located at the bottom. With a twist of his hand, the staff vanished into thin air.

“Whoa,” Dean gasped, then schooled his expression back into one of disinterest. “Neat parlor trick.”

“No parlor trick; it has served me many times in battle. Especially in missions where I’m supposed to look defenseless.”

Dean studied Ketch closely. “Now I get it; you're the MoL’s little assassin. A wizard who isn’t afraid to get a little dirty. Explains why they let someone with _witch_ blood join their ranks.”

Ketch glowered at him. “You sound like you are insinuating something.”

“Nah, just making an observation. Hell, my Dad got discharged for wanting to be a hunter _and_ a wizard, and it’s just strange that the MoL are now okay with fighters in their order.”

“Well I’m from the British Men of Letters, we’re not as lazy and uncouth as the American chapter,” Ketch practically growled.

“Oh, yeah, well—” Before Dean could say more, Castiel put a hand on Dean’s knee and squeezed.

Castiel did not like having this man’s attention on them, and the longer he lingered the worse Castiel’s anxiety got.

To Castiel’s relief, Dean seemed to understand some of the things he wished to convey, and he gently squeezed Castiel’s hand in return. “You know what, I can’t really argue with you there. Maybe the American chapter has a thing or two to learn from you guys.”

Ketch seemed shocked at the lack of fight, but quickly replaced the confusion with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, we’re planning on whipping the American chapter into tip-top shape, and we’re even teaming up with hunters to try to help both groups. Your wizards need to learn how to have a backbone and fight, while your hunters… well, they need to learn how to think with more than just their brainstem.”

Jo loudly put down the plates of their food, looking visibly pissed off. “What makes you think you have the right to insult hunters in a hunter-affiliated inn?” she demanded. “There are many brave men and women here who are hunters and risk their lives everyday to keep people safe. They have no obligation to do so, and many don’t have formal training, but that gives you no right to insult them!”

Dean was also radiating anger. “Hunters aren’t just some cavemen that smack things around with weapons. Most of them don’t have the shortcut of using magic, so they have to use their wits in order to survive.”

Ketch held his hands up in mock surrender. “My apologies. I just simply meant that some hunters have a habit of attacking first, and asking questions later.”

The black stain on Ketch’s magic twitched, and Castiel felt his stomach turn.

Neither Dean nor Jo seemed appeased, but Dean didn’t let that stop him from taking a giant bite of his fries before resuming his conversation with Ketch. “Is that why you’re here then? Trying to recruit hunters so you can train them like some kind of attack dogs?”

Ketch forced a smile. “Actually, I’m here for a more immediate problem regarding the springs. I need to investigate the source, but I’m not foolhardy enough to go by myself. Not with so many disappearances of hunters.”

“So what? You want us to be your bodyguards or something?” Dean asked before taking a sloppy bite out of his burger.

Ketch’s annoyance was growing stronger. “Don’t mistake me as one of those librarian wizards. I’m a monster killer as much as you are. In fact, I believe I’m better than you.”

“Oh yeah.” Dean’s cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, as the man refused to stop eating to talk. “Then how many dragons have you taken down? Because I’ve managed five, and ten wyrms.”

Castiel clenched his fists tight enough that he was sure he left bruises, but he couldn’t run the risk of recoiling at the reminder of his kin’s blood on Dean’s hands.

“Fifteen dragon kin altogether? Impressive,” Ketch said, though still sounding bored. “I’ve taken down thirteen dragons, and twenty-two wyrms.” He rolled up his sleeve to show off a scale bracelet like Dean had, but with more scales, and between each one were carved and rounded wyrm fangs.

Castiel could feel the blood draining from his face, and had to turn back towards the bar before he got sick like the last time he saw one of those ghastly bracelets. He clutched at his glass and tried to drink his water, but it tasted sour on its way down his throat and he had to stop.

“Is your friend over there all right?” Ketch asked.

“Not really,” Dean hissed. “Remember, we’re here for a reason.”

“Which is why I think we should work together. Power in numbers and all that. Though I’m willing to sweeten the deal if you need more persuasion. If you get me to the top of the peak, I’ll personally buy your new equipment.”

Dean choked on his next bite of burger. “What?”

“From what I understand, the higher up we go, the greater the threat, and I prefer not to travel with an ill-equipped team. Consider it a gesture of good faith.”

“We’ll think it over,” Dean said dismissively.

“Don’t take too long,” Ketch tisked. “There’s a big storm rolling in two days from now, and I want to be at that peak by tomorrow.”

“A storm? It’s March!” Dean said, confused.

Jo snickered. “Welcome to Pennsylvania, where the snowstorms like to wait until spring to start.”

Dean shifted in his seat to look back at Ketch. “How much time exactly are you giving us?”

“Let’s make it two hours. Any longer than that and I’ll move my business elsewhere,” Ketch replied smoothly. “Though keep in mind that you won’t find another offer like mine, especially when you need the tools of your trade.”

Dean grumbled under his breath, and Ketch finally moved away. Castiel felt like he could finally breathe again now that the toxic presence was gone, though he still flinched when he felt a sudden hand on his shoulder.

“Cas? You okay there, bud?”

Castiel didn’t have the energy to lie and instead just shook his head.

“Shit, we should get you to bed.” Dean quickly sorted through his change purse and pulled out two coppers to put on the table. “Can we take these plates upstairs?”

Jo nodded. “Sure, but bring them back by dinner time if you want to get served a meal.”

“Thanks. Come on, Cas, let’s move.” He gently nudged Castiel and lifted his untouched plate of food. “Our room is number eleven.”

Of course it was. Dean always tried to get room eleven whenever he had the chance. He believed it was a lucky number or something.

Castiel carefully got to his feet, and was startled to suddenly see Ketch back in his face.

“What the fuck, man!” Dean growled, looking as if he wanted to shove Ketch out of the way, but didn’t want to risk dropping the food. “Haven’t you heard of personal space?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that your companion has such an interesting aura around him,” Ketch said, and the feeling of dread pooled in Castiel’s stomach again. “Haven’t seen anything like it before. What did you say happened to him?”

“I didn’t, and it’s none of your business,” Dean replied. “Now get out of the way before I make you.”

Ketch’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. “Is that a threat, Mr. Winchester? Because I do not take kindly to threats.”

“I feel the same way, Mr. Ketch,” an older woman’s voice said from the side, followed by the sound of a bolt being loaded into a crossbow. “Which is why I’m not threatening to shoot you if you don’t leave my inn. I’m just giving you a ten-second warning before I do.”

They all turned to face the middle-aged woman holding the crossbow, and Castiel could see that she was serious.

“Now, Mrs. Harvelle,” Ketch said, plastering on a smile. “I think we can just—”

“You’re down to five seconds, Ketch. I don’t take kindly to people harassing my customers, and this is your third strike. Now get out, and _maybe_ I won’t ban you for life from this establishment.”

Ketch growled, “You’re making a big mistake, Ellen, and the British Men of Letters will be hearing about this.”

“Oh, no, are they going to have a talk with my parents? Take away my allowance?” Ellen said sarcastically. “Your people have no power over here, and I’d sooner trust a chupacabra than one of you. Now skedaddle unless you want to go to the hospital to have them remove both the stick up your ass and my bolt.”

“Bloody Neanderthals,” Ketch murmured but took his leave.

It was only once the man was out the door that Castiel felt like he could breathe again, but with the new lungful of air he found himself trembling with the fear and anxiety he had been holding back until this point.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, sounding confused and helpless.

Castiel couldn’t meet his eyes because he knew they would be full of questions and pity. Castiel was once a warrior amongst dragons, even wyrms feared his reputation, and now he was nothing more than a wallowing husk of his former self.

“I’d like to retire to my room now,” Castiel said before hurrying upstairs. He knew that Dean wouldn’t be able to catch up while balancing their plates and glasses, but he forgot that Dean was the one with the room key.

When Dean found him, Castiel was curled up on the floor with his forehead pressed tightly to his knees.

“Cas? Cas, man what’s going on?”

Castiel shook his head, not wanting to voice the problem aloud. Not here.

Dean sighed. “Well if you want to get inside, the key is in my left back pocket. I’d get it myself but I don’t have the hands right now.”

Castiel slowly got up and fetched the key, doing his best not to press against Dean, and quickly opened the door so he could hide under the bedcovers.

“Cas?” Castiel could hear Dean place their lunch on the nearby desk and walk over towards the bed. “Cas, what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong was he didn’t feel safe. Not around so many experts who knew how to kill his kind when they were at full power.

And he was so pathetic.

Instead of answering, Castiel did his best to turn the human bed into a nest, curling up into a tight ball.

“Can I join you under there?”

Part of Castiel— the cornered animal part— wanted to hiss at the hunter, and tell him to leave him alone and go back to his den of killers. But the larger part of him wanted his mate.

With a low whine, Castiel made his choice, and it didn’t take long for Dean to squeeze his way under the covers. Castiel appreciated the fact that Dean didn’t just pull the covers up and expose him, despite that being the easier method. His human was thoughtful like that. It took some wiggling and maneuvering, but soon Dean was wrapped around Cas with an anchoring hold against his chest.

Castiel trembled again, buried his nose against Dean’s arms, and focused on the sound of Dean breathing. It was a nice, slow sound that reminded Castiel that this was what he chose, and this was what he was fighting for.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dean asked again, his lips moving and tickling against the nape of Castiel’s neck.

“I… I panicked.”

“I could see that. What set you off? You were fine before we went inside the inn.”

“Inside the den of dragon killers, you mean.”

Dean’s breath hitched. “Cas, you know they won’t—”

“His magic was corrupted. So many innocent lives that… that _human_ took. Their blood stained his very soul.”

“Cas...” Dean tightened his hold on Castiel. “I would never let that creep or anyone else hurt you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to notice you were uncomfortable down there.”

Castiel didn’t tell him it was alright, instead he just buried his face deeper against Dean. “I think Ketch knows what I am.”

“I told you, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, including that douchenozzle.”

Castiel let out a weak laugh before turning somber. “I don’t feel comfortable here. Not when I’m so vulnerable, and with the storm approaching—”

“We’ll check out the springs tomorrow,” Dean promised.


	31. Take Care of Each Other

“You’re a bunch of dumbasses,” Ellen Harvelle said as they helped her prepare breakfast. Those who stayed at the inn had their choice of a default breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, and if they wanted anything extra they would have to pay for it.

Castiel had at least mastered the art of making eggs. Or at least the art of not getting the eggshells in the dish, and not getting it all over his hair.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked, piling his recent batch of eggs into the serving bowl.

“Because you’re going to be climbing a mountain before a blizzard hits,” Jo replied, kneading a fresh batch of dough. “And going right for a stream that may or may not be frozen solid already.”

“The storm won’t be arriving until tomorrow afternoon, and the mountain only takes a couple of hours to climb,” Castiel pointed out as he poured his scrambled egg mixture into Dean’s frying pan.

“What about your horses?” Ellen argued. “There’s no way they can go up the path, and it’s too cold to leave them outside for long.”

“The horses know the way back, they’re both highly intelligent, and the stable hands already know to put them back in their stalls when they return. It’s only a five mile journey to the peaks, so they don’t have long to travel,” Castiel explained, brushing a hand across Dean’s cheek as Dean reclaimed his spot at the oven and Castiel returned to his.

“Yeah, and how are you two getting back?”

“It’s five miles, Ellen, not fifty,” Dean scoffed. “Plus after a drink from the spring, I’m sure we’ll both be feeling better.”

“Seems like you missed the whole point of people going up that mountain but never coming back down,” Jo grumbled, kneading her dough harder than it needed to be.

“Joanna Beth, if you turn my bread into a brick, I’m throwing it at your head,” Ellen scolded. Jo stuck her tongue out in reply, but stopped being aggressive to the dough. “But she’s right. You boys sure are putting a lot of faith in the fact that the streams work, and that there’s not something more sinister up there.”

“I’m not your run-of-the-mill hunter, and Cas isn’t your average cleric. Trust me, we aren’t just hoping for the best; we have a plan,” Dean said.

“I still don’t know why you can’t just wait until after the storm,” Ellen grumbled, slicing through a fresh loaf and dividing it evenly.

Dean and Castiel shared a glance before Dean cleared his throat. “Cas… Cas is getting worse. I’m afraid that if we don’t do something now then it will be irreversible.”

Ellen angrily slammed her knife down on the table. “Look, boys, I like you and that’s the only reason I’m telling you this; you’re being too cocky and this whole plan is stupid. What you’re doing is racing against Mother Nature and that’s a race you just can’t win.”

“It has to be today, Ellen,” Dean said stiffly. “And we don’t need your permission.”

Ellen glowered at Dean, and Dean returned her gaze with just as much heat before Ellen rubbed her face with an aggravated groan. “Fine, I’ll hush up. Just do me a favor? Let my boy, Ash, pick you up. He’ll be at the bottom of that peak right at twilight, so you best start getting your asses down that mountain once the sun starts setting.”

“We don’t need you babysitting us,” Dean complained.

“I’ll knock five coppers off your daily lodging fee,” Ellen bribed.

Constantly being short on money, that wasn’t really an offer they could refuse.

“Deal,” Castiel said, so Dean didn’t get an additional blow to his ego. “Once the sun starts going down, so will we.”

“You know,” Jo said, loading her bread onto a paddle and tossing it inside the firebrick oven. “If you’re worried about them, I could just tag along and—”

“No,” Ellen, Dean, and Castiel all chorused together.

Jo puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. “I’m from this area, I know the mountains better than—”

“I said no, Joanna Beth,” Ellen growled.

“Sorry, Jo.” Dean shrugged. “But it doesn’t seem right taking a kid who’s barely twenty up there with us.”

“You’re only a couple of years older than me!”

“And I killed my first monster when I was a preteen.” Dean scoffed and plated the newest batch of eggs. “What big kills have you done, princess?”

“I’ve taken out a goblin before.”

“Impressive, but not impressive enough against a hunter killer.” Dean placed his frying pan under Castiel’s bowl so he could pour in the new mixture of eggs. “Look, kid, I already have to keep an extra eye out for Cas—”

Cas grumbled, but he couldn’t argue with the truth.

“The last thing I need is to keep my other eye on you. Doesn’t leave me with any eyes left to watch out for myself.”

Jo didn’t reply, instead just grabbing a new set of dough to start kneading.

“Aren’t you running low on supplies?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, but I’ve been making good with what I have. I can hold off until I get back.”

“Not really what I was asking, but I do have a proposal for you. I’m running low on some items myself, but I have to go to the Dark Market to get all of the ingredients I need.”

Castiel stiffened, remembering that Dean had said the Dark Market was a shady place that dealt in magical and stolen goods.

“I’m getting older and the crowd there is rough on a good day. If that spring does heal you up, then I’m willing to pay you good coin to go fetch the items I need.”

“How do you know we won’t just take your money and leave?” Dean questioned.

Ellen shrugged. “I’ve always had good instincts,” she said, grabbing a piece of dough herself to knead. “Don’t know if I have magical blood or not, but it’s always served me well. Saved my life a couple of times too.”

“Mine too,” Jo admitted, pausing in her kneading. “When I was two, Mom just had this urge to take me down the storm cellar because she… I don’t know, she wanted to show me around or something?”

“I don’t remember either,” Ellen said. “I just remember telling your father that we needed to show you the cellar and he told me that I sounded like a loon. I tried to convince him to come with me, but he wanted to stay in bed. He told me I should go back to sleep myself, but I didn’t. Instead, I went to your nursery, lifted you up, and then spent the next hour showing you every little nook and cranny in the cellar, as well as every item that we stored down there. When we finally left… when we got back… we… there… there wasn’t…”

Despite how hard she tried to get the words out, none came.

Jo, however, knew the tale well, and stepped in. “Our home was ashes and so was my dad.”

Castiel held his breath, knowing that things didn’t burn down in such a short span, unless…

“Dragon,” Dean ventured, and both Jo and Ellen nodded.

“Mom thinks that they were after me, since I was in that age bracket, and when they couldn’t find me they got frustrated and burnt the place to the ground,” Jo said, taking a deep breath before returning to her work. “But that’s why we can trust you. Mom’s instincts are never wrong.”

“My childhood home got burned down by a dragon too,” Dean blurted, clearly uncomfortable that they shared such an intimate story with him. “My mom didn’t make it out either.”

Ellen nodded slowly. “I thought I saw some similarities in you. Now your partner, I can’t get a good enough read on...” Castiel froze mid-egg crack, “...but anyone who looks at you with the level of love and trust he does has to be alright.” Ellen smiled fondly. “It’s the people who love deeply and honestly that make the best kind of folks.”

Castiel and Dean shared a quick glance and blush before hurrying back to work.

“So what do you say, boys? Willing to run an errand for me?”

“You got it, Ellen,” Dean said confidently. “How far is the Dark Market and when do you need everything by?”

“It’s about a two-day journey up north, pretty easy path, though you might run into some cockatrice. If you do, I should let you know that their feathers, talons, and hearts go for some pretty coin in the Market, so I suggest you don’t just leave behind the carcasses. The meat ain’t too bad of a meal either.”

Castiel did admittedly know that. Though many humans thought cockatrices were one of the main dragon kin, they were actually further removed from the family tree, and a common meal for true dragon kin. Very similar to how falcons and other birds of prey would eat songbirds.

Plus they really did taste just like chicken.

“Sounds like we’ll have to stay at your inn for a couple more days than we were planning on,” Dean said.

“How long were you planning to stay?”

“Not long. Probably an additional two days.”

“Snow might not be clear enough by then. How about this—if you do this favor for me, the rest of your stay will be free.”

Dean shrugged. “It really depends on how Cas is feeling.”

“Also depends on whether or not they come back later today,” Jo added nonchalantly.

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen yelled.

“Oh, you were thinking about it too, Ma!”

When Dean had to transfer his eggs again, he stopped by Castiel’s station first to whisper in his ear. “Don’t worry about what they say. We’ll be fine.”

Castiel hummed in agreement. “We’ll take care of each other.”


	32. The Springs

The area of Frankfort was probably a beautiful sight to behold during the warmer months, but in the winter transitioning to spring, it was very cold, wet, and gray. The only plant life that alive right now were the tall pine trees that littered the landscape. The spring itself was a bit disappointing, as it was only a small stream of water that flowed through an opening of a rock formation, with only a shallow puddle of muddy water beneath.

“I’m not drinking from that,” Castiel said, not caring how haughty it sounded.

“I don’t blame you,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Can you at least stand under the stream and try to catch the freefalling water?”

“I could, but there’s not much of a point. The water here isn’t potent enough for what I need.”

Dean stared up at the spring. “We might as well drink some of it anyway. It’s going to be a long hike reaching the source of that, and we need to stay hydrated.”

“Since when did you care about hydration?” Castiel complained.

“Guess all those times you nagged me about it caught on.” Dean smirked, gently elbowing Castiel in the side.

Castiel knew that if he didn’t follow Dean’s request, then Dean would rub it in his face the next time he wanted him to take it easy on the alcohol.

But still…

“But it’s wet,” Castiel complained, looking at the water and barely refraining from hissing at it.

“So are showers, or are you telling me you haven’t been bathing this whole time?”

“That’s different! With the shower I can make the water close to boiling, and it feels nice against my skin. This is just… cold.”

“Boiling?” Dean shook his head, muttering something about not showering together in the future. “Come on, if you step over here and hold out your hands, you can cup the water and drink it that way.”

Castiel reluctantly held out his hands but hissed when the frigid water hit his skin, so cold that it felt like it was burning, and he immediately flailed his hands out of the way. “Gah!”

“Oh, come on, Cas. Don’t be a baby, it’s just cold water.”

“Frigid dihydrogen monoxide! I’m not touching that again until it’s closer to room temperature.”

Dean rolled his eyes at him. “Don’t be a baby.”

Castiel hissed, knowing that if his ears were in their proper place then they would be pinned down to his head.

Dean growled in frustration, struck his own hand under the chilled water, pulled it out once he had a handful, and presented it to Castiel. “Here. Now you don’t have to get wet.”

Castiel stared at Dean in surprise, but realized that the longer he delayed the more embarrassed Dean would feel about his actions. Cupping his own hands under Dean’s, he carefully guided them over towards his lips and took a deep gulp, trying not to spill everything when Dean started to shake.

“Sorry, man, that tickled,” Dean said. “So, how’s it taste?”

“Interesting,” Castiel said, feeling the small bursts of magic spark across his tongue. It wasn’t enough to do much more than alert his body that magic was present, but it was a good sign that it’s true source would be strong enough to help Castiel. “I think we’re on the right track, though.”

“Good to hear,” Dean agreed, before taking his own sip. “Mmm, mountain fresh.”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of his human, and couldn’t resist yanking him down a bit so that he could steal a taste of Dean’s tempting mouth. Castiel might be biased, but he felt like there was more of a charge from Dean’s own tongue than there was from the magical water. He regretted it when he pulled away, and Dean seemed just as reluctant, but they had a deadline to meet.

“Come on, Dean, the sooner we get to the top, the sooner we can crawl back into our nest.”

Dean smirked and interlocked their fingers together. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

Hiking mountains in the middle of winter was not enjoyable, especially not when arctic winds kept blasting them in the face at high speeds. The force of the wind steadily grew stronger the higher up they climbed, and towards the end of it Dean had to walk behind Castiel so that Castiel didn’t get knocked far by the gusts. As much as Castiel missed being airborne, being flung off the side of the mountain by a strong gale was not what he intended. By the time they could hear the gushing of a river, they were already close to the mountain’s peak, and the sun was facing west.

Castiel frowned at the setting sun. After thousands of years watching it, he could deduce the time of day pretty accurately by its position, and knew that it was already past four o’clock. More troubling were the stark white nimbostratus clouds that were hastily moving across the sky.

Dean looked up at the sky as well and cursed. “Let’s hope that those clouds are for tomorrow’s snow.”

Castiel shook his head. “The clouds are too heavy, we have a couple of hours at best until the blizzard starts.”

“Well, let’s hope that all we need to do is let you take a swig and then climb back down before Ellen’s dude leaves without us.”

Castiel surveyed the surrounding area, but frowned. “Dean, did you notice anything odd here?”

“I see nothing, Cas.”

“Exactly.” Castiel tensed. “There are numerous reports of people not coming back after reaching the peaks...shouldn’t there be some evidence that they ever even made it up?”

“Fuck, you’re right. Everything looks a little too tranquil here. So the question is…where’re the bodies?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, slowly sliding his blade out of its sheath. “But we should be prepared for an ambush.”

Despite Castiel looking for danger or some sort of adversary, he didn’t find any.

“I guess...I’ll just drink it?” Castiel said, inching closer to the ravine and kneeling before it. The sound of the gushing water was so loud that he could barely hear Dean talking over him.

“Too... cold… dead…” were some of the phrases Castiel could make out, but they didn’t make much sense.

Until Castiel realized that it was now a little too silent. Even before a snowstorm there should be other sounds of nature, some other signs of life. Here, there was only the river and them.

Or was there?

Castiel’s skin prickled uncomfortably, and he turned around in time to see a blast of necrotic steel blue magic heading straight for him. He tried to maneuver out of the way, but the only thing he had time for was to let out a gasp of pain before his limbs were paralyzed.

He collapsed onto his side, bits of his hair drooping into the rushing river, but fortunately his face remained on the ground and above water for now.

“Cas!” he thought he heard Dean scream, but he wasn’t sure if it was what he wanted to hear.

Castiel watched the river pass him in a daze, and only snapped out of it when a rough hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. Castiel didn’t need to look to know who his assailant was, but his eyes roamed until he spotted Dean a hundred feet away. Dean had been forced to his knees, the side of his mouth bleeding, but he looked angry instead of scared.

“What the hell are you doing, Ketch?”

“What’s it look like, Winchester? I’m doing my job.”

“And what exactly is that? Being a creepy stalker?”

“To bring my employers magical objects to study. I was planning on getting a sample of that spring water, but I think your friend here will do just fine as a replacement study.”

Castiel's face was unable to contort into the horror he felt.

“What the fuck? Since when did the Men of Letters resort to kidnapping humans?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure that this one is human. There’s something…off about him,” Ketch said, pressing his staff towards the center of Castiel’s back—right where his wings would connect. “I can’t figure it out, but I’m sure there are plenty of members who would love to take a crack at him.”

“He’s just a cleric who got cursed,” Dean growled. “Leave him out of this.”

“Maybe that’s true, but I’m afraid I can’t leave empty-handed—”

“Then what is it that you need? I’ll do _anything_ —” Dean’s voice broke at that word, “—anything you want, as long as Cas stays safe.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Here, catch,” Ketch said, tossing a glass jar towards Dean. “I’m going to need you to fill that with river water.”

Dean stared at Ketch in confusion. “That’s it? Why aren't you doing it?”

“I’m not running the risk of that river being cursed. Better safe than sorry.”

There was a quick flash of nervousness on Dean’s face before his confident facade returned. “That’s it? Well, not like we weren’t planning on testing this water anyway.”

Dean moved towards the river and unscrewed the top of the jar, but made no effort to bend down. “Before I get this water, I need you to unfreeze Cas, or else the deal is off.”

Ketch scoffed. “What makes you think you can barter with me?”

“The fact that you bartered with me first. I’m thinking this water is more important to you than Cas is, or else you would have just taken him and ran. Now unfreeze him, and once this jar touches the water, I want you to let him go.”

“Fine,” Ketch growled, and within seconds Castiel could feel his body again.

His body felt tingly, like he’d been stung by a thousand bees, but he had full control again. “Dean, you don’t have to do this!”

“Yes, I do, Cas. Hell, I have to test this for you, as well. No way am I making you drink cursed water.”

“Dean—” Castiel tried to argue, but Dean obstinately stuck his hand in the water.

Castiel held his breath, and it looked like Dean did as well, but nothing happened, and they all could breathe for a moment.

“Don’t just play in the water,” Ketch complained. “Get me my sample!”

“Okay, okay,” Dean grumbled, grabbing the jar and submerging it.

It was only once the jar was taken out of the water and placed on land that the danger set in. If Castiel thought it was too silent before, that was nothing compared to what it was like now. It felt like sound itself had been sucked out of the area; Castiel couldn’t even hear his own breathing. Then the water began to glow ominously, even inside of the jar.

Everything felt wrong.

“Dean, get away from there!” Castiel screamed, but no audible words came out.

He tried to run to Dean, but Ketch grabbed him by his cloak and yanked him back. In what felt like slow motion, Castiel watched what looked like hundreds of ghostly hands reach towards Dean and drag him underwater.

“Dean!” Castiel howled in horror, struggling against the ironclad hold Ketch had on his cloak until he heard the telltale sound of fabric ripping. He pulled harder until he ripped himself out of Ketch’s grip and ran to the water’s edge. “Dean!”

He desperately scanned the waters, but he couldn’t make out where Dean was under the angry torrent.

Castiel knew he had two options. He could accept that Dean was lost to him forever and escape from Ketch while he had the upper hand. Or he could dive in after Dean, despite being unable to swim, and drown with him. Even if he could swim, clearly the river would show no mercy.

Choose to live without Dean, or die beside him?

But was it worth it, when Dean’s life was a match compared to the burning inferno that was Castiel’s near immortal existence? Regardless of when, Castiel was always going to have to live without Dean.

“I can’t believe the rumors were true,” Ketch said, brushing past Castiel so that he could grab the jar. “The water is harmless if you drink from it, but it will consume you if you try to take from it. Whatever secrets it was trying to protect will be something that my colleagues would very much enjoy uncovering.”

“That’s why you wanted Dean to do it for you, because you knew—”

“That he would be fast enough to get me what I wanted, _and_ take the fall? Of course.”

Castiel growled and threw himself at Ketch, clawing at him with his blunt nails and snarling at him. Any sense of logic was lost on him; all he wanted to do was hurt this monster for sacrificing the man he loved.

However, logic would have warned him that it was a foolish pursuit, as it only took five seconds for Ketch to flip him onto his back and press a foot against his windpipe.

“I won’t lie, I wish I could take you with me. There’s something special about you, _Cas_ ,” Ketch said, playing with his nickname, and Castiel only snarled louder. The man didn’t have the right to call him that!“But I’m not sure how far the river’s influence runs, so it’s better to offer you as a sacrifice so I can get off this bloody mountain.”

Castiel’s eyes widened as he felt Ketch’s deformed magic wrap itself around him again, only this time it was tugging him towards the water.

“Be sure to tell Dean hello for me.” Ketch smirked and waved his hand, forcing Castiel under the water.

All Castiel could see was blue.


	33. Blue

Blue surrounded him on all sides, fully encompassing him. There was no up or down; directions were completely meaningless. All that existed was blue.

Castiel couldn’t decide if the blue was the womb for his rebirth or the color of his tomb.

He also couldn’t help thinking that this was what he deserved. Dying in the same watery grave that claimed his mate. He didn’t even try to fight to escape, just accepted its judgement for what it was.

_You didn’t take from us_

An echo of voices whispered into his mind, its touch slippery and cold as it slid through.

Castiel would have shivered if his whole body wasn’t already past the point of feeling cold.

_You didn’t take from us We only punish thieves We are givers not takers_

Castiel disagreed. Whatever they were, they took his mate away from him. They were thieves and killers.

_We are givers and healers Just like you Great One_

The prickling in Castiel’s brain turned into a lacerating jolt that made him scream. No noise came out, but water flooded into his mouth. It felt as the water was pouring through, nestling into every facet of his body and making a home for itself.

_We give to those who need it Great One needs it_

Castiel felt the water push past his meaty interior and squeeze its way into his very molecules.

_We know what ails you We can make you Great again_

Whatever the water was doing, it was reacting with his grace now. Dancing around it and toying with it. Every touch from the water made his grace fizzle and crackle in anger.

_We never healed a Great One before but we can_

No longer taunting his grace, the water fully engulfed it, making everything go black around him.

Castiel was just grateful that it was no longer blue.

He came to with a mighty gasp, his eyes opening to a white sky, and all four of his paws clinging to the dirt.

Wait… _Paws_?

Craning his neck, which felt much longer than he was used to, Castiel could make out his familiar ivory and sapphire scales and feathers. Lifting his wings, he noticed his feathers weren’t even wet. His body didn’t even ache from the transformation. Castiel was finally himself again.

But where was Dean?

Castiel rose quickly to his feet, momentarily giving himself vertigo because he was no longer used to being so high off the ground. Had he always been this tall? It was only once his vision cleared that he was able to scope out the land, and recognized that he was still by the mouth of the river. Dean, however, was still nowhere to be seen.

Castiel refused to leave without his mate, especially now that he had the strength and mindframe to do so. Even if he did loathe water, it didn’t stop him from plowing into the river at full speed.

_What are you doing Great One We healed you_

_We already gave You can’t take anymore_

_/You took someone from me,/_ Castiel growled, forcing his eyes to stay open under the crystal clear water. _/I’m taking him back./_

_We only take thieves_

_/He wasn’t the thief. The real one got away, absconding with your water./_

_No this one took from us He stole part of us_

_/He was forced to do it to save me! He risked his life because he loves me./_

_Ungrateful We gave you a gift and still you take more_

_You are not a Great One You are a Fallen One_

_/I don’t care as long as I have him. You can take it all back! Just give my mate back to me!/_

_If you can find him you can take him_

_But we will take back the longer you are here_

_We will take until you become one of us_

_/Then I just have to be faster./_

Castiel saw a flash of green and gold, and knew that he had found Dean. He used every limb he had to propel himself as quickly as possible over to Dean, all the while feeling the effects of the water attacking his grace.

Fortunately he was much bigger in this form, and the river was no longer as vast.

Stretching out his long neck, Castiel quickly scruffed his mate by his long cloak, and began to ascend to the surface.

_No Stop_

Castiel felt like the water around them was getting heavier, perhaps the river’s last attempt at keeping them under. However, the river highly underestimated who it was dealing with. As a dying human, it could overpower him, but as a fully healed dragon? It stood no chance.

Castiel breached the surface, mindful of not injuring his mate further. He carried Dean onto the shore, and carefully placed him on his back. It was no surprise that Dean wasn’t breathing, but his soul was still attached to his body, which was all Castiel needed. Laying a single digit against his skin, Castiel nudged his grace to flow through Dean’s body to heal him. When his grace registered Dean’s soul, it automatically knew what to do and started clearing up his lungs, evaporating the water, as well as soothing over the damage the cold water caused. Once satisfied, it flowed through the rest of his body, healing every little scrape and bruise it found.

However, healing Dean wasn’t enough to bring him back from unconsciousness. His mind was still convinced that it was drowning, and no amount of prodding from Castiel’s grace would convince him otherwise.

Castiel needed to get them out of there.

Castiel carefully raised himself to his feet, but when he raised his wings they refused to move more than a few feet. Puzzled, Castiel turned his head around and noticed that his wings were not only waterlogged, but there were also ice crystals beginning to form on them.

That wasn’t a good sign. If ice was forming on him, then that meant that his external temperature was dropping too fast for his internal fire to keep up. Dragons relied on their internal fire to give them lift into the sky, much like a human hot air balloon. If his internal fire couldn’t keep his wings from freezing then there was no way that Castiel could fly them back.

_Infernos_ , he wouldn’t be able to safely transform into a human either, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be strong enough to carry Dean’s dead weight. The only thing Castiel could do was carry Dean back inside the cave, further away from the vindictive river.

A sudden snowflake floated into Castiel’s eyes, reminding him of another reason to seek shelter: the blizzard was coming.

Gingerly, Castiel scooped Dean back up into his mouth, and plodded down through the caverns. He went as far as he could go, before the ceiling of the cave sloped too low for Castiel to pass through comfortably. Deciding this was far enough away from the river, Castiel gently lowered Dean again, and began making a nest. The ground beneath them was cold and hard, but it stood no chance against Castiel’s claws, evolutionarily designed to dig through stone like a mole could with dirt.

He didn’t have time to make a nest big enough to fit himself, just big enough for his tiny mate. Once enough stone had been removed, he used a miniscule amount of his fire to soften the layers, and insulate the inside. Castiel had to use his tail as a thermometer, waiting until the temperature cooled down enough that it wouldn’t scorch Dean. Once it was a comfortable temperature, Castiel slowly picked Dean up again and tucked him inside. Even though Castiel worked as quickly as he was able, Dean’s lips were starting to turn blue.

Foolish! Castiel shouldn’t have left Dean on the cold floor in his drenched clothes. He knew better than that!

Dean’s clothes were practically frozen to his skin, leaving Castiel with no choice but to strip them from his human. He managed to get the cloak and tunic off with no problem, but the pants were trickier. Castiel didn’t know how to get the zipper safely down with his claw, and ended up tearing the fabric in the front. Castiel hoped Dean wouldn’t be too angry. Castiel hesitated a second at Dean’s undergarments before deciding that the nest could insulate enough heat to warm the thin fabric in a short amount of time.

That and Castiel would never hear the end of it if Dean woke up butt-naked in a hole.

Once Dean was settled into the nest, Castiel had to figure out the best way to lay himself down. He had enough room to put the upper half of his body in the nest while leaving the lower half to stay on the cave floor. As a human, the position would be uncomfortable, but his dragon form was lithe enough that he shouldn’t notice. His real concern was being sure he would not accidentally injure Dean.

Crushing the human was an obvious danger, but the greater hazard was accidentally shredding Dean with his underbelly armor. Their scales were like jagged metal under there, strong and resilient enough to deflect most weapons, and sharp enough to slice through any creature dumb enough to touch them. However, dragons were not just predators. They were also devoted parents to defenseless young. This meant that they had the ability to pick off their armored outer layer to reveal the soft downy underlayer that was perfect for cushioning and protecting their young.

Most dragons had a year of breeding hormones to close off the blood vessels to the armor, so that shedding the overcoat off wouldn’t be painful. Castiel didn’t have time for that.

Digging his claws into the ground, he ripped out his armored scales and tossed them to the floor, mouthfuls at a time. The pain was unpleasant, but bearable compared to the idea of accidentally killing his human.

Trickles of blood dyed spots of the white down pink, before his grace clotted the bleeding. By the times Castiel was done, he had a pile of scales that was half the size of Dean, and a belly that looked speckled pink. But his down was soft and safe, which was the only thing that mattered.

Carefully, Castiel positioned the upper half of his body in the nest, placing the majority of the weight on his arms and legs so that his belly was grazing Dean’s skin, but also left his mate plenty of room to move around and breathe.

The air around them was frigid, the temperature easily dropping to below freezing, but the inside of the nest stayed warm.

Castiel rested his head on the cave floor, making a face at its chilled surface, but hoped that its cold nature would prevent him from falling into a deep sleep. As a dragon, he could easily stay asleep for 18 hours, completely unaware of his surroundings, and leave a frightened Dean to panic when he awakened to a slumbering behemoth on top of him. If Castiel stayed in a meditative state, he could get the rest he needed, but also be alerted to the moment Dean woke up.

Castiel could only hope that his mate would take the news well that Castiel had been telling him the truth all along.


	34. Once Upon A Dream

_“Where am I?”_

_Castiel paused, surprised to hear another voice in his head. It didn’t feel like any dragon-kin and it didn’t have the slipperiness of the river voices. Curious, Castiel let his mind wander as he began to figure out who was reaching out to him. The cavern at Frankfort disappeared, soon to be replaced by Castiel’s cavern and true nest._

_“Holy shit!” the voice cursed, the expression and tone very familiar to Castiel._

_/Dean?/ Castiel asked, his ears perking up, and his feathers fluffing up from excitement._

_His human had figured out to reach out his soul towards him. He really_ was _clever._

_Castiel finally noticed his mate crouched into a corner, a chunk of stalagmite wielded in his hands like a weapon. The moment Dean realized Castiel saw him, Dean went charging at him with the stalagmite raised like a lance. Castiel was too dumbfounded to do anything but watch as the mineral pierced his scales and exploded into a cloud of dust._

_/Did you really think that would hurt me?/ Castiel shook his head, and took back his original claim of Dean being clever. /Firstly, I’m a dragon. Secondly, this is a dream./_

_“A dream?” Dean slowly backed away from Castiel, eyeing him nervously. “I guess that’s why I can hear you?”_

_/Yes, though I do hope that since your soul has reached out to me once, that it will be able to do so again./_

_“What is that? Some creepy dragon come-on?”_

_/No./ Castiel’s wings twitched. /You should know by now when I’m flirting with you, Dean./_

_Dean’s face twisted from disgust to anger. “How the hell do you know my name?”_

_Castiel tilted his head, confused. /Don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Castiel./_

_Dean stared at him, puzzled, and Castiel slowly lowered himself so that his head was at eye-level with Dean’s. Dean stared back at him, looking more confused the longer their gazes met._

_“Fuck, you do have his eyes,” Dean whispered._

_/I was fortunate that Jimmy Novak had blue eyes as well, but when I took his form, my eyes turned out bluer./_

_Dean paused before letting out a chuckle. “I get it now. I’m dreaming, and I’m believing in Cas’ fever dream.”_

_Castiel huffed in annoyance, and his tail banged on the ground. /I’m real, Dean. This might be an astral projection, but I’m real./_

_“I guess real enough,” Dean said, looking at him curiously. “If I touched you, would I be able to feel you?”_

_/I’m not sure,/ Castiel admitted. /It depends on how deep the connection is./_

_Dean reached out to Castiel with shaking hands and bopped him on the nose. Castiel went cross-eyed, trying to keep an eye on him, making Dean laugh. “Huh, not as dry and scaly as I thought you would be.”_

_Castiel would have been offended by that comment if Dean didn’t distract him by slowly sliding his hand up the bridge of Castiel’s nose and further up to his head. The smooth keratin on his nose slowly turned into soft feathers as Dean’s hand wandered higher, and Dean let out a gasp at the sudden texture change. Despite the surprise, Dean continued stroking into his feathers, making Castiel’s eyes close in relaxation, and a mighty purr started to build._

_Dean froze. “You really do purr like a cat?”_

_/Cats purr like dragons,/ Castiel grumbled. /We were around first. Now keep petting me./_

_“Bossy dragon,” Dean teased, but continued his ministrations._

_At some point Dean managed to get Castiel rolled over onto his back, and was using both hands to brush through the feathers on his underbelly. “I thought dragons have hard armor under here.”_

_/We do,/ Castiel agreed over the loud purring. /If my armor was still there, you would have sliced your hands open./_

_Dean paused, and Castiel whined before he started again. “Why don’t you have armor?”_

_/I ripped my armored scales out,/ Castiel admitted. /I didn’t want to risk harming you in the physical plane./_

_“What?”_

_/Oh, in the real world I’m currently in my dragon form again. The river forced me to change back, and I’m taking advantage of my larger form to shield you from the blizzard outside./_

_Dean was silent, his hand slowly circling a patch of down. “These are spots of blood on you. Pulling those scales out must have been painful.”_

_/I’d do it a thousand more times if it meant keeping you safe,” Castiel vowed._

_Dean let out a weak chuckle. “God, it really does sound just like you. Either I’ve been spending too much time around you, or my brain is really good at picking up details.”_

_/Or it’s because this is real, and because I’m really me./_

_Dean didn’t answer, just kept his hands on Castiel’s abdomen. Letting out a growl of annoyance, Castiel shifted so that Dean fell right on top of him, and he used his wings to hold him close._

_/What is bothering you?/_

_Dean struggled for half a second before giving up and burying his face into the down. “Just… this is a nice dream, but there’s no way it can be a reality.”_

_/Why not?/ Castiel’s purring stopped._

_“Because none of this makes sense,” Dean exclaimed. “You’re a dragon and I’m a hunter. You would kill me without hesitation.”_

_Castiel growled. /I would never hurt you, and I would never let any of my kin hurt you. Just like you did everything you could to protect me from that wizard./_

_“Wizard?” Dean jolted up, only to be pushed back down by Castiel’s wing. “Fuck, Cas! That’s what this is, some sort of weird Purgatory. I drowned, and couldn’t save Cas, and now I’m stuck living the rest of my life with DragonCas.”_

_/Purgatory? Do you really find this form so unsettling?/_

_“Actually, I have a soft spot for it,” Dean said, smoothing down the feathers on Castiel’s wings. “But knowing I’ll never be able to touch your human self again? Well… that would suck. I mean, no offense, but there are some things that I would only be able to do with human you.”_

_Castiel’s ears twitched. /You mean things like kissing, and copulating?/_

_Dean coughed, but turned it into a chuckle once the shock wore off. “Umm, yeah, stuff like that. Plus, no way I could ever be the big spoon when you’re this massive.”_

_Castiel pulled Dean closer to his chest. /I’ll return to a human form for you. I would like to return to my true form for some days, but I am willing to live a mostly human life for you./_

_“Then I guess I can get used to this weirdo afterlife,” Dean decided, before curling back into Castiel. “I just hope real Castiel is fine.”_

_/Trust me, he’s absolutely perfect./_


	35. All Will Be Right

Castiel was woken up from his meditative state by a hard kick to his unprotected abdomen. Even unarmored, the kick only felt like a pinch to Castiel, but it was still unpleasant. Castiel grumbled in annoyance at his mate, forgetting how loud and terrifying he was in this form until he heard the echoing growl.

Great, the last thing he needed was to have Dean stab him _again_.

Forcing himself onto his paws, Castiel moved away from the nest just as Dean delivered another vicious kick.

“I don’t know what kind of freak you are, but I know how to make things explode!” Dean threatened, his eyes darting around wildly.

It took Castiel a second to remember that humans had horrible night vision, and Dean wasn’t able to see his whereabouts. Taking pity on his mate, Castiel let his grace shine through his eyes, producing enough light for Dean to see his surroundings.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean complained, eyes narrowing at Castiel’s massive form. “I always knew I was going to be taken out by one of you uglies, but I didn’t think it would end with me in a hole wearing only my boxers.”

Castiel whined over the fact that his mate thought he was ugly.

Dean cringed at the sound, making Castiel feel worse.

 _/It’s alright, Dean! It’s me. It’s Castiel!/_ Castiel said, hoping that since Dean’s soul had reached out to him before, that his mind was able to as well.

What happened instead was Dean covering his ears and screaming in pain.

Castiel suddenly remembered his conversations with Anna, and how her voice was too loud in his head despite the thousands of miles between them. The brain frequency that dragons used to communicate must be too loud and painful for humans to process.

Whimpering in apology, Castiel immediately lowered himself to the ground to make himself seem less intimidating to Dean. Castiel’s ears hung low, and his tail laid listless to reflect how sorrowful he felt.

Castiel was a bad mate.

Dean still eyed him with suspicion, waiting for Castiel to attack, and it was only after Castiel made no signs of moving that Dean scrambled out of his hole, and towards the dark bundle where his clothes and weapons had been discarded. Castiel watched him without blinking, making sure that Dean could still see.

For some reason that seemed to disturb Dean more.

“Stop looking at me, you freak!” Dean hollered, grabbing his sword and holding it out defensively.

If that was what Dean wanted…

Castiel closed his eyes and redirected his grace to travel through his feather shafts and make his wings bioluminescent.

“Holy fuck, you guys glow in the dark?”

Castiel tilted his head before nodding. Technically they had to purposely make themselves glow, but it was something that required little effort. Even fletchlings could pull it off.

“You… you nodded?”

Castiel nodded again.

“Right, forgot you guys are super intelligent. So what, you plan on toying with me until you get bored and kill me?”

Castiel snorted in disgust before vigorously shaking his head.

“What do you want then?”

Castiel was grateful that Dean hadn’t decided to just attack instead of asking questions, but he didn’t know how else to convey to Dean that he wasn’t a threat. Unless…

Slowly, Castiel rolled over onto his back, splaying his wings wide, and exposing his unprotected belly. He kept his eyes closed, completely aware that he was giving Dean full power to kill him. He could hear Dean’s footsteps get closer until he was practically on top of Castiel, heard his human heartbeat go faster, and even detected the shift in Dean’s footing as he raised the sword high.

Castiel stayed still.

The sword made a clang as it hit the ground, and instead of a blade, Castiel felt a hand buried into his feathers.

“I… I’ve seen you before. You were in my dream.” A second hand soon joined the first, slowly exploring Castiel’s underside. “It’s softer than I imagined.”

Castiel couldn’t help but purr low in approval.

Dean froze. “Cas? Is that really you?”

Castiel lifted his head up, eyes still closed, and nodded. He wasn’t expecting a human weight to jump onto his stomach, but he purred louder when he felt Dean bury his face into the soft down.

“Fuck, I thought he was going to kill you,” Dean said. “The last thing I saw was your horrified face and then everything went…”

Blue.

Castiel carefully maneuvered himself so that his upper paws were folded around Dean, pressing him closer.

Dean chuckled. “Figures you’d be a cuddly dragon. Wait… son of a bitch, you weren’t crazy after all.”

Castiel hmphed, still annoyed that Dean had questioned his sanity this whole time.

“You’re a dragon… and I’m… I’m… shit, I’m dragon-married to you now.”

Castiel purred so loud he accidentally gave himself the hiccups.

Dean started trembling, and Castiel grew concerned that his hiccuping had scared his mate. That is, until he realized that Dean was shaking from silent laughs.

“I never thought I would say this to a dragon, but you’re pretty adorable.”

Castiel preferred being adorable over ugly, even if it was a bit demeaning for someone his age. Then again, he supposed it was acceptable from his mate.

His mate that now knew he was Castiel’s and vice versa.

“Wait, what happened to the real Novaks? You… you didn’t kill them, did you?”

Castiel’s purring stopped, and he shot Dean a betrayed look with floppy ears. He would never do something so barbaric, even when he thought humans were evil.

“Had to double-check, bud. So they are safe?”

Castiel nodded, while his tail twitched in annoyance. He had already told Dean that they were safely on their way to Canada.

“And you’ve never killed—” Dean cut himself off. “I guess I don’t really have the right to judge what you did in the past, do I?”

Castiel had never killed a human, but he might have been responsible for their countless deaths by never questioning his father’s motives. Or questioning the giant blips in his memory that he was only noticing now. There were centuries’ worth of gaps in his mind that really should have set off alarm bells before this.

Still, he was relieved to know that Dean wouldn’t hold it against him.

“So what are our odds of getting out of here tonight?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed and shook his head.

“Shit, that bad,” Dean bemoaned. “And I guess my supply of food went down the bottom of the lake?”

It was technically a river, but Castiel nodded anyway.

Dean grumbled into Castiel’s feathers. “Well, it wouldn't be the first time I had to go a few days without food, and it sounds like we still have running water nearby. We can last on that for the day—fuck, you hate water! Are you even able to drink it like you did as a human?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. Of course he could drink water, but he didn’t require it as frequently as humans did. He also didn’t need to eat as frequently either, not if he didn’t expend too much energy.

“I wish I knew what you were saying,” Dean complained before huffing a laugh. “You’re probably going off on some sort of lecture about water and its effects on different species.”

Castiel shifted, almost causing Dean to roll off, if he hadn’t gripped Castiel’s forearms to keep him in place.

“You know I’m right,” Dean argued, twisting around so that he could make eye contact with Cas.

Castiel grumbled, but to his relief Dean didn’t startle like he did before.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked, once he got comfortable in their new position. “Will you be okay? Did that river actually help you, or did it cause more problems? Will you be stuck in this form now?”

Castiel wished answering those questions wouldn’t cause Dean physical harm. All he could do was purr low and slow, and hope that Dean understood its meaning.

He…they were going to be alright.


	36. Take Flight

It was their second day of being snowed in when Dean finally gave up being nice.

“You can’t do jack shit right now,” Dean declared, gesturing at one of Castiel’s loose scales at his snout.

Castiel huffed out, insulted, but couldn’t deny it. The magical water had plugged up the holes that had been draining his grace, but they had also drained most of it when Castiel had gone back to retrieve Dean from their grasps. He could regenerate his grace if he was in direct sunlight, but the gray skies above the mountaintop barely provided a spark.

The best Castiel could do in the meantime was keep meditating and preserving his energy. Dean would use this quiet time to either preen Castiel’s feathers, explore the caverns, or work on his latest hobby of carving Castiel’s armored scales into arrowheads.

Castiel knew that Dean’s hunt for food was going poorly as a result of being snowed in from the blizzard, and his diet consisted only of the water that leaked through the cavern walls. Dean never complained about his hunger, but his appearance was growing more gaunt each day. Castiel’s concern was growing each day as well.

It was why Castiel knew that they could not go another day like this.

Letting out a giant yawn, Castiel slowly stretched himself out like the giant housecat that Dean accused him of being. Once his body felt limber, he started to stretch out his wings for the first time.

“You going somewhere, buddy?” Dean asked, eyeing his wings suspiciously.

Castiel nodded and used his right forepaw to point between his mate and himself, before pointing towards the roof of the cavern.

“You want me to go outside with you?” Dean looked hesitant. “All that’s there is a murderous river.”

A murderous river that should hopefully be frozen over by now, _and_ the open air.

Castiel puffed up his wings and spread them over his head, hoping Dean would get the message. The horrified squeak that came out of Dean’s mouth suggested that he did.

“You’re not seriously taking us flying out there, are you?” Dean sputtered.

Castiel nodded, unsure as to why Dean made it sound like a ridiculous notion. Castiel was a species known for flying, and it was the easiest way to get Dean back to human civilization.

Castiel wasn’t dumb enoguh to think he would be welcomed, but he could at least drop Dean in a nearby, non-hunter-affliated town, and find some mountaintop to hiberate on for the next couple of days. Then he could go back to Dean once he had enough grace to safely return to his human form.

“Cas, are you fucking insane? You said you’re low on energy!”

Castiel growled lowly. He knew what he was doing and didn’t need Dean to talk down to him like he was the one with the age of a fletchling!

For once Dean wasn’t bothered by his growls, and instead his green-gold eyes narrowed. “Hey, I wasn’t judging, I was just making an observation before. You pushing yourself too hard doesn’t change anything.”

Castiel grumbled, wishing that he could talk to Dean, but the only way he could safely do that was when Dean was deep in REM sleep, and Dean rarely remembered everything that occured.

“I know. Not understanding you is pretty aggravating for me too, but that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t at least _try_.”

Castiel’s ears folded and his tail waved back and forth in annoyance. It wasn’t like Castiel had given up trying.

“Cas, I need to know if you can safely pull this off.”

Castiel glared, and Dean let out a frustrated growl of his own as he pulled himself to his feet to stomp over to Castiel. Dean tried to glare into Castiel’s eyes, but with their height difference he was actually staring at Castiel’s elbows. Castiel rolled his eyes as he leaned down so that his human could properly look at him. He wasn’t expecting said human to lean his forehead against the bridge of Castiel’s snout.

For a moment Castiel was taken aback by how much his hunter trusted him. A trust he knew wasn’t given freely, and that Castiel could never forsake.

“I know you’re this big, badass dragon, but I’m still worried about you, and I have every right to be. You have no idea how hard it’s been watching you slowly deteriorate in front of my eyes.”

Castiel’s tail went limp, feeling guilty that he had made his mate this upset.

“I know the water helped, but you still have that same weak energy you had before. I don’t want you to put yourself in danger over nothing.”

Castiel huffed, accidentally messing up Dean’s short hair.

“I’m serious. I know things aren’t perfect but at least it’s a warm shelter with plenty of clean water. Those are the two most important things, and I’ve survived worse.”

Castiel knew that; he also knew that a human could last three weeks without food, and that the snow would melt before that point. But Castiel felt horrible every time Dean’s stomach growled in hunger, and felt shame for not being able to support his mate by providing food for him. It was a rudimentary duty of a mate to provide for their intended, and Castiel was failing.

Castiel closed his eyes and pressed his head closer to Dean, hoping that his human understood his dilemma and trusted him.

Dean sighed loudly before reaching up and petting Castiel on the bridge of his nose. “Just don’t do anything dumb.”

Castiel purred softly as a promise, before slowly pulling away from Dean, and gesturing over his shoulder for Dean to follow.

“Hold on,” Dean said, gesturing to the pile of Castiel’s armored scales. “We can’t just leave the rest of those behind! Those make some good quality arrowheads, and I’m sure I can make a badass sword out of them if I could bring them to a forge.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but could see where Dean was coming from. Not wanting to waste any more time, Castiel went over towards the pile and began shoving it over towards their temporary nest. Once the scales were inside, he buried them with the loosened rocks he had originally dug up, leaving behind no trace that there had ever been a dragon in these caves.

Dean circled the area, inspecting Castiel’s handiwork, before nodding in acceptance. “Not even a nosy MoL will notice that.”

Castiel huffed, before herding Dean over towards his meager belongings and out of the winding caverns. Dean was reluctant to follow his command, but did so until they reached the edges of the cliff, and he got to see how far off the ground they really were.

“Cas? I can’t climb down from this height. Not without proper tools.”

Castiel grumbled before laying down and spreading his wings out wide so that nothing was obstructing his back.

Dean stared at him in horror. “No offense, Cas, but there’s no way in hell I’m riding you. Not like that.”

Castiel snorted. It wasn’t like Dean had never ridden bareback on Baby, and Castiel would be more cautious with Dean’s safety than any horse could be.

“Cas, I’m not sure if you realize this, but I’m a human, and humans are not meant to be in the air. I think we’re just going to need to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve me going splat.”

Castiel grunted, offended that Dean would think that, but then stiffened as his senses picked up something magical stirring nearby.

“Cas? You’re starting to puff up there.”

Castiel growled low in his throat, finally turning his attention to the frozen riverbank. A riverbank that was starting to crackle with glowing energy.

_Thieves You must return what you have stolen from us_

_/For the last time, you were the ones who stole from me!/_ Castiel spat out, but then froze as the river began to climb out of its crater and start to flood the land.

“On second thought, humans don’t belong underwater either,” Dean said, before flinging himself onto Castiel’s back. He struggled into a comfortable position, before finally digging his knees into Castiel’s dorsal vertebral spines, and gripping onto Castiel’s long neck.

Castiel could feel every tremble that went through Dean’s body as he desperately clung on.

Not letting Dean’s trust be in vain, Castiel quickly repositioned himself into a crouched position, and used his powerful back limbs to launch them into the air. He could feel Dean flinch and bury his head into Castiel’s neck as his wings swung out and flapped as loud as thunder, moving fast enough to break through the sound barrier.

Castiel didn’t stop flapping until they were far away from the mountains, and he felt like they had enough momentum to glide. It took about three miles of gliding before Dean decided that it was safe enough to lift his head back up.

“Okay… this is kinda awesome,” Dean whispered, and Castiel began to purr loudly.

Castiel should have known better than to think that things would have been that easy for them. They barely got in another mile before Castiel felt a bolt of electricity rip through the center of his left wing.

Castiel roared in pain and confusion as his extra limb stiffened from paralysis, sending sharp pain throughout the area.

“What the fuck is that?” Dean demanded.

Castiel couldn’t answer, as he sensed the same electrical aura reach out for him again. He careened to the left to spare his right wing the same fate as his left, only to overbalance and begin to plummet through the air.

“Caaaaaaaaaaaaas!” Dean screamed, as he slowly lost his grip on the dragon.

Castiel scrambled, knowing that he could either make a safe landing, or keep Dean safe. He chose Dean.

As soon as he felt Dean slip off, he quickly reached out his paw to grab the human, and rolled over so that his back was facing the ground and his stomach was pointing towards the sky. He pulled Dean close to his soft chest and buried him deep into the down feathers, knowing that there was enough cushioning there to protect him from impact.

Castiel’s spine and wings were not as fortunate.

_CRACK_

Castiel’s entire dorsal side plowed into the frozen terrain below, pieces of wood from the crushed trees splintered themselves into his flesh, and stunning him where he laid.

“Cas? Cas!” Dean tried to unbury himself from Castiel’s feathers, but Castiel kept him pinned down. “What the hell happened?”

Hunters had happened, and he knew there was more where that came from.

“Holy shit,” a human male voice hollered. “I can’t believe it, it really was a dragon.”

“I thought this was a simple rescue and body retrieval mission, Mrs. Harvelle,” a different male voice said, this one with a thick accent. “I’m afraid my prices will have to double now that there’s a dragon involved.”

“A weak dragon, if you managed to take it down with only one hit,” a familiar and young female voice complained.

“My daughter’s right,” an older, but just as familiar female voice agreed. “You’re paid based on the difficulty of a task, and not a copper more than you deserve.”

“I’m willing to keep my original price then, as long as I have full rights to the body,” the accented voice bargained.

Castiel shuddered at the man’s words and cringed as the full-body tremble set off more pain through his wings and spine.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, his voice muffled against his feathers. “What’s going on?”

Dean’s pathetic human ears couldn’t hear the hunters that were on their way. Castiel could only hope that they would leave his mate alone, and wouldn’t try to harm him as well.

Castiel’s arms relaxed their tight grip on Dean, falling listlessly to his sides once Dean was released. As soon as Dean’s restraints were gone, he sprung away from Castiel’s abdomen, and sprinted over towards Castiel’s head. Castiel forced his eyes to stay open when Dean pet the side of his cheek, knowing that he needed to be alert.

“Cas, come on,” Dean begged, doing his best to try to lift Castiel’s head off the ground and failing.“You gotta get up.”

Castiel tried, but his injured wing was nothing but dead weight that refused to cooperate, forcing him back against the unforgiving ground. Castiel kept his mouth clamped shut, knowing that any groans of pain would not only reveal their location faster, but could also deafen Dean.

“Cas,” Dean growled in frustration, though his eyes were filled with terror. “We have to move now. Whatever shot you down is going to catch up.”

Castiel was aware.

“Cas!”

Castiel tried again, wings and body flailing until he turned over onto his side, before he had to give up because he was panting too hard.

“That’s good, Cas. Come on, keep going. Just a little more and then we can get you on your feet. I’ll even help,” Dean promised as he maneuvered himself behind Castiel’s back, and towards the center of his wings. “Now move!”

Castiel forced himself to keep moving, being mindful of his wings so that he didn’t accidentally smack Dean with them, but he lost his concentration once he rolled over to his stomach. His injured wing spasmed once it had the room to, and he felt it collide against Dean’s face.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed, cupping his hands to his nose.

Castiel’s ears and his functioning wing folded close to his body, hearing his mate in pain and smelling the blood that was slowly dripping down his face.

“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean tried to reassure him. “It’s not the first time someone accidentally broke my nose, and it won’t be the last. But you know what I won’t forgive you for? If you spend too much time wallowing instead of trying to get up!”

Castiel knew Dean was right. He forced his forelimbs to heave his upper body off the ground, and then his back legs followed.

“That’s it, buddy. The hardest part is over. Now we just need to keep moving deeper into the woods. Get as far away from this crash zone as we can.”

Castiel nodded, slowly wobbling beside Dean. Castiel had a feeling that the only thing keeping him on all four limbs was the fear of falling on top of his human.

“That’s it, Cas. That’s it.”

Despite Dean’s best efforts to keep them moving fast, a lone human on foot and an injured dragon couldn’t outrun humans on horseback.

Castiel should have known that his complaints about horses and their slow speeds would bite him in the ass one day.

Castiel could see the wizard’s magical signature a moment before the wizard appeared into view; his magic was icy blue and carried the same dark tendrils as Ketch. In fact, Castiel almost thought it _was_ Ketch, until he noticed that this man’s magic was brighter, and that the tendrils were not as dark, and didn’t cut into his magic so deep. But he was still dangerous.

Castiel pulled Dean towards his chest and bared his fangs as the wizard drew closer. The man pulled his horse further back, out of reach for Castiel to bite him, and raised his metal staff towards Castiel.

At least it _was_ directed at Castiel until Dean dove out from Castiel’s protection, drawing his sword, and standing in front of Castiel’s nose. “I suggest you point that oversized stick somewhere else.”

The wizard, taken off guard, actually lowered his staff for a second, only to purposely redirect it at Dean. “I didn’t know that dragons could control humans. Headquarters will not appreciate this news.”

“I’m not brainwashed,” Dean scoffed. “I’m a dragon...er, monster hunter myself. And this dragon is no monster. He’s my m… He’s mine to protect.”

If Castiel wasn’t trying to be intimidating, he would be puffed up in pride and happiness in what Dean almost admitted.

“You poor bloke, you’re too far gone to even understand what’s going on.” The wizard shook his head sadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to release you from its hold.”

“Not if I knock you off your horse first,” Dean threatened, his own magic sparking towards the surface as it fed off his anger.

The wizard chuckled, and with a wave of his hand he sent Dean’s sword flying. “You need to be more careful with your magic. Channeling magic through a sword as a conductor is not only foolhardy, but will get you killed. There’s a reason true wizards use a wand or a staff.”

“Yeah, well, you look like a bunch of pansies,” Dean argued, his body tensed.

“I prefer that look to being dead. Now step away from the dragon, and you won’t get hurt.”

Castiel’s tail swung angrily behind him, and his front claws unsheathed. Even injured, Castiel was sure he could reach and kill the wizard before he could hurt Dean. He also knew that the chances of both intercepting the magical attack and surviving was low, but at least he could give Dean a fighting chance.

Before anyone could make a move, Jo arrived onto the scene, on top of her own cream-colored horse. “What the hell is going—Dean?”

“Hey, Jo.” Dean laughed awkwardly, giving her a slight wave.

Jo whirled around at the wizard, glaring when she noticed where his wand was pointed. “Are you crazy? That’s Dean! The guy we’re paying you good silver to _rescue_.”

“Are you too daft to notice the dragon he’s protecting? Either he’s not who you think he is, or he’s already lost to you,” the wizard said, refusing to lower his staff.

“Put that oversized wand down or you won’t see even a copper from us,” Jo growled.

“The amount of gold that I will get for bringing in that dragon will be worth it,” the wizard said, channeling his magic for the next attack.

Castiel didn’t think, he acted. In one swift movement, he jumped over Dean, swatted the wizard off of his horse, and slammed the human’s head into the ground hard enough to make the man lose consciousness. Castiel felt it was fitting since the man shot him out of the sky.

The wizard’s stallion reared in fright before taking off towards the direction he came, almost colliding with Jo’s horse in his mad pursuit to flee. Jo had to cling to her own mare so she wouldn’t fall off.

“Fuck,” Jo cursed, staring at Castiel in terror as her shaky fingers reached for the knife strapped to her leg.

“Jo, it’s okay. He’s a good dragon,” Dean said, rushing over to them.

“He just attacked Mick!” Jo sputtered.

“Yeah, well, ‘dick’ here shot us out of the sky and was planning to kill me. He’s not exactly the hero.”

Castiel huffed in agreement.

“Wait, where’s your partner?” Jo asked, surveying the woods like Castiel’s human form was hiding in between the trees.

Dean glanced over at Castiel, before clearing his throat. “Cas is, umm… Cas is safe.”

Jo opened her mouth in an attempt to demand more information from Dean, but instead was interrupted by a loud screech of her name.

“Jo! Get away from there!” Ellen yelped, arriving at the scene astride her chestnut mare, a crossbow already aimed at Castiel.

Castiel moved out of the way, since hovering over the unconscious wizard’s body only made him look more like a threat. He wasn’t paying enough attention to how he was repositioning himself, nor the fact that he was exposing his chest as he shifted.

His no longer armored, and very vulnerable, chest.

“Ellen, no!” Dean hollered, but the bolt she released was much faster.

The iron bolt embedded itself into Castiel’s ribcage, making him howl in pain as he could feel the toxicity course through his bloodstream. He was vaguely aware of both horses and human shouting, but he couldn’t have focused on them even if he wanted to. The only thing he could focus on was the pain.

“Cas!” he heard Dean’s voice call out, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or a memory.

The whole world was feeling fuzzy, and every inch of his body ached. Soon he couldn’t support his own weight and crashed to the ground on the opposite side of the prone wizard.

“Cas!”

Castiel forced his eyes open, staring at the pool of scarlet that was slowly seeping underneath him. He barely noticed the humans surrounding him.

“Fuck. I need you to lift your arm, Cas. We gotta get that bolt out of you now!”

Yes, the longer it tainted his bloodstream, the greater the likelihood of his mortality. Castiel knew this, but his body was finding it difficult to cooperate. By the time he finally lifted his arm, Dean immediately swept in and pulled the bolt out with a mighty heave.

Castiel was too exhausted to whine in pain, and even keeping his eyelids open was a strenuous effort.

“Cas, stay with me,” Dean growled as Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut. “You need to stay conscious.”

“Dean, what are you—”

“Ellen, I don’t have time to deal with you. Just shut up and stay out of the way,” Dean roared, angrier than any of Castiel’s brethren had sounded.

But just as quickly, Dean’s tone softened as he turned back to Castiel. “Cas, you have to stay with me. I can’t dragon-marry you if you go ahead and _die_ like this.” He tried to say it jokingly, but Castiel could hear the way Dean’s breath hitched on the word _die_. “Please, you can’t just go out over something so stupid.”

Castiel agreed that a single iron bolt was a ludicrous way for a creature as old as him to die, but many of his brethren had gone similarly.

His own brother had died from an iron bolt.

Castiel wondered if the universe had a sense of humor. It was ironic that he and Uriel would share both a similar and divergent death. Uriel was shot by a hunter, and died while Castiel’s paws tried desperately to stop the bleeding. Now his brother’s killer was the one desperately trying to keep Castiel alive.

Castiel at least found it humorous.

“Cas!” Dean yelled, as Castiel felt a flick to his nose. “I need you to pay attention to me. Can you do that?”

Castiel was reluctant to open his eyes, but he did twitch his ears forward.

“I need you to go back to your human form. Iron won’t be able to kill you if you have a human body, right?”

Dean was correct, but the transformation could kill him.

“I know you don’t have much of your dragon magic or whatever, but can you piggyback off of mine? I have a strong power source and I _know_ I can help.”

It was an interesting concept, but also dangerous. It wasn’t Dean’s magic that could power him up, but his very soul. Human souls were an incredible source of power—perhaps the very reason why his father was targeting them—and would give him the edge he needed to transform. However, one wrong move and it would cause an explosion that could kill them all.

Castiel tried to shake his head, but his eyes snapped open when he felt the warm stroke of magic reach up and brush against his cheek. Even through blurry eyes, he could make out the green and gold swirls that made up Dean’s magic… made up Dean’s soul. It was reaching out towards him, begging to be let in.

Castiel let out a weak purr, feeling validated that Dean’s soul knew as much as Castiel’s grace did that they were connected.

His grace, as tired and battered as it was, was beckoned by Dean’s soul. Castiel watched with glazed eyes as his sapphire grace entangled with emerald and gold. He felt a charge of electricity rush through him, as if he was blasted by lightning, and could sense his grace growing stronger.

It wasn’t as strong as it normally was, as the iron was still poisoning it, but it would have to be enough.

While his grace was still attached to Dean’s soul, Castiel sent Dean a desperate plea to stand back, and not to worry. To his relief, Dean retreated, and he hoped that his mate also heard the second message.

Transforming on this amount of grace was not going to be pleasant.

Closing his eyes, Castiel focused on the entirety of Jimmy Novak’s form, right down to his molecules.

The pain was even more gruesome than he remembered, and he fell unconscious with the first shift of his skeleton.


	37. Support

Castiel woke up mid-scream, his throat sore and raw as if he had been screaming for hours. His bones felt like they were no longer connected to each other, and his muscles felt like they had been melted into a viscous tar. When he opened his eyes and saw only darkness, he screamed again, fearing that his eyes had also melted.

“Cas, shhhh. Stop screaming,” a beloved voice pleaded. “You don’t need to rupture anything and start coughing blood again.”

Castiel bit back the next scream that was building, turning it into a pathetic whimper instead. He felt a cold, human hand placed across his feverish cheeks, and pressed closer to the cool touch.

“Shit, I really wish I knew if this high temperature is a deadly fever or just a _you_ thing,” the voice complained.

“Wha?” Castiel croaked out before coughing. The hand immediately moved, and pulled Castiel up. He wasn’t sure they were trying to be gentle, but it felt like they were trying to break his bones further.

“I’m sorry, bud, but can’t risk you coughing up any more nasty shit and then choking on it.”

“Hurts,” Castiel whimpered.

“I know, but hey, it’s almost sunup. Means you can have the next twelve hours sunbathing, just like you did yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Castiel blinked, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the dark surroundings.

His eyes didn’t normally need adjusting. That must mean…

“I’m human again?”

Castiel could feel the human behind him—Dean! It had to be Dean—stiffen at his first full sentence.

“Cas? Are you actually awake?”

“I...I think so.” Castiel tried to swallow, but it only irritated his throat worse. “How… how long have I been asleep?”

“A little over ten days. The first three you were completely comatose, and the last couple you would come in and out. You’d say a few words here and there, but never full sentences.”

Castiel closed his eyes, hating that he had delayed Dean further on his mission. At this rate, they would never reach the first key by the end of the month. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dean sounded genuinely confused.

“For being a burden,” Castiel hissed. “And an obstacle. Always holding you back.”

“What the hell are you jabbering about?”

“I keep delaying your journey and the mission. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be stuck in Frankfort.”

“Wait, you can’t feel that we’re moving?”

“What?” Castiel had thought that the floor wavering underneath him was another sign of his weakness, but now it seemed like it could be something else.

“We’re in the back of a wagon. It took me about a day to convince Ellen and Jo that you were a good dragon, and that we needed to get far away from any MoL bitches sniffing around. So Ellen agreed to have Jo and Ash help us get to Philadelphia, and lent us her supply wagon for you to sleep away in.”

Castiel vaguely remembered the metropolitan area, but only because it was one of the few grand-scale cities they were going to pass through en route to the first key. “How long until we reach the city?”

“We’re technically in it already. Or at least the outskirts of it, and about three hours away from the heart of it.”

“That soon?” Castiel was shocked that they were able to cover that much ground while he was unconscious.

“We’ve been travelling for awhile,” Dean reminded him. “Plus, we wanted to get into the city’s borders as soon as possible.”

“What’s so important about it?”

“Men of Letters aren’t welcomed here, something about them helping the wrong side during the Revolution, and now anyone that carries their blood can’t enter the city,” Dean said. “Sucks for them, since the magic in this area is pretty strong. Brings all sorts of witches and psychics into the area. Pretty good for restocking hunting supplies too.”

“Is that the other reason Jo is here?” Castiel asked, vaguely remembering that Ellen wanted him and Dean to pick up some supplies for them.

“It makes for a good excuse, especially if any MoL bastard notices that the Harvelle Inn is down a Harvelle,” Dean said. “Anyway, enough deflecting. How are you feeling? Think you can get to your feet today?”

It took Castiel a moment to realize why he would need to get to his feet. “Have you been carrying me in and out of the sunlight this whole time?”

“Yeah,” Dean’s admitted, sheepish. Castiel didn’t need to look at him to know that Dean’s cheeks were rosy.

Castiel couldn’t help but purr, delighted by the fact that his mate was both strong enough to carry him around, and also kind-hearted enough to make sure that Castiel got the proper care. “You paid attention to what I said before.”

“Of course I did. I also think I owe you another apology. You know, for calling you crazy.”

“I can admit that my claims sounded pretty outlandish.” Castiel blindly reached out until he felt Dean’s cooler skin. He slid his hand down until he found Dean’s own, and pulled it forward so that he could nuzzle his face against it.

Dean chuckled. “But I’m glad it’s true. Even if it means that I’m dragon-married to you now.”

“I think you meant ‘especially since it means we’re mated now.’ Unless you’re having second thoughts?” Castiel tried to sound unaffected by the suggestion, but his traitorous heart gave him away with its hastened rhythm.

Dean’s hand pressed closer to Castiel’s cheek, and his long fingers twined into his hair. “Of course not. I don’t really understand it, but… I don’t know. It just feels _right_ being with you.”

Castiel relaxed and buried his nose against Dean’s hand, relishing in the scent of his mate. He couldn’t pick up all the scents that he could as a dragon, but he could still recognize the smell of home. There was also the tang of Castiel’s own scent markings all over Dean, which made him grin wider.

“I can feel that,” Dean said, sounding amused. “What’s got you smiling?”

“You smell.”

Dean did an experimental sniff. “I know I haven’t been able to do more than a river bath, but I can’t smell _that_ rank.”

“I meant that you smell like me. The real me.” Castiel traced a finger down Dean’s underarm. “My species scent-marks those important to them, and I can still smell that you are mine.”

Dean chuckled. “Are you sure you aren’t a giant cat?”

“Maybe cats are just small dragons,” Castiel retorted. “We were around millions of years before their species even broke off the carnivore family tree.”

“I’m sure you would know, considering you are older than dirt,” Dean teased.

“I’m only four thousand years old. You’re the one who’s only made it a quarter of a century.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a cradle robber,” Dean joked. “And if you’re feeling well enough to sass me then I think you are well enough to at least _try_ getting up.”

Castiel grumbled, but complied as he gripped Dean’s hands tight and let him lift him to his feet. At first he had to cling to Dean, as his legs weren't used to supporting his weight, and he had forgotten what it was like to balance on two stubby legs, but eventually his body figured it out. Mostly.

“I think I’m going to need your support,” Castiel admitted.

“You’ll always have it,” Dean promised as he readjusted his stance so that he was perched under Castiel’s left arm.

Together they walked into the sunlight and Castiel took in a deep breath of air. The air wasn’t as clean as it was in Frankfort; the amount of humans in the area left a permanent tinge of smoke and pollution in the air, but it wasn’t overpowering. Dean was also correct that this land ran deep with magic, and he could feel that something powerful lived under the surface of the state. However, it was the sunlight brushing across his skin that was the most awe-inspiring thing.

Castiel closed his eyes and faced the sunlight, soaking in its warmth.

Dean chuckled and gently nudged Castiel to keep moving. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed that Dean was leading him to a clearing where human camping equipment was already set up, the sun shining directly over it. Castiel didn’t walk far before he heard a surprised whinny.

_/You’re awake?/_

Castiel smiled, recognizing the deep voice. “Good morning, Zeke.”

Within seconds the giant Clydesdale galloped into view, his massive head appearing right in Castiel’s face, looking like he was debating licking him or biting him on the nose.

Castiel hoped that they had put enough of their differences aside that Zeke was past the biting phase.

_/You look wretched,/_ Zeke acknowledged, puffing out a large gust of wind from his mouth.

“And your breath is horrendous,” Castiel noted, but still offered a hand out to Zeke as a gesture of goodwill. He wasn’t expecting Zeke to bump his velvety nose against his hand in greeting.

“So… what’s the story with Zeke?” Dean asked curiously. “Is it a dragon thing? Can you understand all animals?”

“It’s a dragon thing, but not in the way you think,” Castiel said, slowly petting Zeke’s nose once he realized that the ex-drake was enjoying the touch. “I can only understand dragon kin. As in our immediate relatives, including wyverns and wyrms.”

“Wait, are you telling me Zeke here is dragon kin?”

“He was a drake—”

“Those wingless dragons?”

“Yes.” Castiel traced patterns against Zeke’s nose, patterns that Dean had demonstrated on Castiel in his true form that he had found relaxing. “Drakes are those who stood against the king and had their wings ripped out, and were forced into servitude.”

Dean let out a strangled gasp, and Castiel closed his eyes. It was easier thinking of Zeke as a drake when he was still the criminal Gadreel. Now Castiel hated to think about the pain that had been afflicted on his ally.

“I needed a steed for my mission, so Zeke was chosen and transformed to be mine.”

“Can he turn back at will like you can?”

Castiel shook his head. “What keeps me in my form is my own magic. Zeke’s form is a result of alchemy—a combination of magic and science. He’s closed off to his magic, and can only turn back with a reversal formula.”

Zeke butted his nose against Castiel’s forehead, and he added, “However, Zeke seems happy in this form. I don’t think he wants to change back.”

“I guess, if he’s happy. But still freaky that he’s actually a super intelligent species that’s probably smarter than me,” Dean said.

Castiel refrained from pointing out that Zeke was definitely smarter than Dean. However, he did take advantage of the quiet moment to fully take in Dean’s appearance and gasped.

“Cas, you okay?” Dean’s green eyes were filled with worry, but it was almost blocked out by the dark shadows circling his eyes.

“Have you slept at all these past couple of weeks?” Castiel demanded, removing himself from Zeke in favor of tracing the shadows under Dean’s eyes with his fingers.

“Not really,” Dean confessed, closing his eyes. “I… shit, there were so many times at the beginning where I thought I’d lost you. Too many times I woke up in the middle of the night to find you not breathing.”

“I’m past that point of concern now,” Castiel promised. He could already feel his grace singing in his veins. It was still weak from both the iron poisoning and the forced transformation, but it was stronger than it was before their healing journey. “Promise you’ll get some rest with me?”

Dean chuckled. “We usually use the daytime to set up camp and sleep anyway. I promise I’ll join you.”

“Then I’ll stay up with you until you have your affairs settled,” Castiel argued, even as he swayed on his feet.

“No.” Dean’s eyes fluttered open to glare at him. “I’ll set up a sleeping bag for you, and you’re going to sunbathe until I get the rest of the camp set up.”

Castiel opened his mouth to argue, but Dean cut him off. “I’m serious, Cas. Just go sunbathe. You’ll only slow me down if you follow me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to leave me alone,” Castiel tried to argue but it came out as more of a whine.

“It will be twenty minutes, tops.” Dean kissed between Castiel’s furrowed brows. “But if you think you need someone to watch over you, I’ll have Jo or Ash babysit you.”

Castiel made a face. “I can manage.”

Dean chuckled and stole a quick kiss. “That’s what I thought. Now go lay down.”

Castiel wished he could say that he stayed awake until Dean returned, but in reality he fell back asleep the moment he got comfortable on top of his sleeping bag.


	38. The Journey Continues

“You’re sure you're feeling well enough to ride on your own?” the concerned human questioned.

At this point, Castiel should have been used to his fretful human caretakers, but it was strange that it was Jo who was the perturbed one for once. She watched him anxiously as he tacked Zeke’s gear, as if it was her unwavering gaze alone that was preventing him from toppling over.

Castiel refrained from groaning or rolling his eyes. “I can assure you, Jo, that I am fine.”

Jo bit her lip nervously. “You’ve only just started walking around on your own.”

“You don’t need to feel so guilty just because your mother almost killed me with an iron bolt,” Castiel tried to reassure her, but his efforts only made Jo flinch.

“What Cas means,” Dean broke in, “is that you guys have already proven yourselves, and got us out of a tight spot. You’re not in our debt.”

“Exactly. We would not have made it this far without you, and I promise that Zeke will not let me fall out of my saddle if I do relapse.” Castiel gave Zeke an affectionate pat on his shoulder, glad that it was no longer a question that Zeke would keep him safe.

“Hell, _I_ wouldn’t let you,” Dean scoffed. “Plus you guys need to load that wagon up with supplies for the inn. It will be much more comfortable for Cas to ride into the city alongside me and Baby.”

Jo frowned, but acquiesced. “You could just travel alongside us, since we both need to get supplies.”

Dean shook his head. “All we need is to grab some weapons, and some extra rations. It’s quicker for us to just get the shit we need and then head to New Jersey.”

“Ewww,” Ash, the human with the strange haircut, said as he rearranged things so he could hitch two horses instead of four. “Why would anyone want to go there?”

“Don’t look at me, it’s where I was informed to go,” Dean said with a shrug. Even though he seemed to trust Jo and Ash, he didn’t mention the fact that it was Colt’s wand he was after.

“Right, for your secret magic mission. Hey, when you go shopping, go and get yourself a staff or something,” Ash said.

Dean stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He means that Mick had a point. You’re a pretty sucky wizard,” Jo said, not even bothering to lessen the blow.

“Hey!” Dean turned to Castiel for comfort, but Castiel turned to look at Zeke instead.

Castiel didn’t want to hurt his mate’s feelings, but he couldn’t lie to him either.

“But it’s because you aren’t using the right conductor,” Ash interjected. “Staffs and wands are designed for using the maximum amount of your purest magic, with less of a chance of backfiring on you. Fuck knows how you survived this long without one.”

Castiel had a feeling it was through pure stubbornness.

“Cas?” Dean asked, wanting his opinion.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

“Dean, if you really wish to be a better wizard and fully complete your mission, you’re going to need to learn how to properly use your magic,” Castiel said, giving Dean an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but I’ve seen you explode enough things during our journey, and even a fletchling has better control over their fire magic than you.”

“Burn,” Ash laughed.

“Yes, he actually has. Luckily I am more fire resilient than the typical human,” Castiel explained.

“That’s not what he… never mind,” Dean sighed. “I guess we’ll add getting a stupid staff to the list of things.”

“Don’t be too gloomy,” Jo said, slapping Dean on the back. “You can sharpen it at the base and still make it all stabby.”

“I could, but it’s still not as badass as a sword,” Dean complained, before helping Cas up into his saddle.

Even if Castiel was feeling better, he wasn’t foolish enough to think he could climb up a horse that was even taller than his mate.

“It’s still a giant phallic symbol either way,” Jo said, much to Dean’s indignation. “Just promise me that when you get things sorted out in New Jersey that you’ll come back here?”

Dean paused and nodded his head. It was only a day's journey away, and it might take Dean some time to decipher the mystery of the second key’s location. “If all goes well, we’ll be back to the city in three days' time.”

“Then make sure things go well,” Jo said, her voice vaguely threatening.

Dean laughed. “Alright, bossy. You make sure to keep yourself safe as well. A hunter’s market in a big city is a whole different species than the kind you are used to.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jo promised, patting the side of her legs where she kept her concealed throwing knives. “I’ll even go ahead and keep Ash safe as well.”

“Hey, I’m not completely useless,” Ash complained. “I’m just not as violent as the lady Harvelles.”

“I don’t think anyone is,” Dean agreed, then pulled a grumpy Jo in for a hug. “Take care, kiddo, and keep your ears open for any talk of the Men of Letters, and the dragon kin.”

“I will,” Jo promised and gave them a reluctant smile. “See ya guys in a couple of days.”

“See ya, Jo,” Dean said, nudging Baby into a trot.

“Take care,” Castiel added, waving goodbye to the hunters before following Dean.

It was a little strange that this was the company Castiel kept now, but it warmed his heart to know that the human hunters had still treated him with compassion despite knowing what he was.

Humans in general were surprising. All his life he knew them as warlike primates that would turn against their own in the name of greed. They were the most dangerous animal in the world. However, now he knew that they could also be the most loving. Creatures willing to love and help anyone, regardless of species, just because they didn’t want them to suffer. Some were even willing to sacrifice themselves in order to keep others safe.

“Dean,” Castiel said once the campsite was nothing but dust and there was nothing in front of them but an empty road. “Promise me something?”

“Depends on the promise,” Dean said suspiciously.

“Promise me that even though we continue on this path for Colt’s weapon, that you don’t have the same plan as before. Promise me that you won’t sacrifice your life in order to stop my father.”

“Cas, I can’t promise that,” Dean argued. “He’s powerful, and as long as he’s still sucking away at Sammy’s soul then I have to—”

“You don’t need to die in order to save your brother,” Castiel hissed. “We can and will find a way to sever the connection that will result in no one’s death.”

“Look, I get that you don’t want me to off your dad—”

“I’m not a fan of the idea, but I’m more concerned about losing you! Dean, I’ve waited thousands of years for you, and I want to spend at least a century more with you.”

“Umm, Cas, humans don’t live that long.”

“There are ways for me to halt the destruction of your telomeres and slow your aging process,” Castiel said calmly. “You forget that I’m well-versed in both medicine and science.”

“You’re really something else,” Dean chuckled. “But I’m not sure if I should be insulted that you want to keep me in my prime for longer. Afraid of seeing me gray and wrinkled.”

“Yes,” Cas admitted. “Not for the aesthetics aspect, but because it is a warning that our time draws to a close. Just as autumn is a harbinger of a barren winter.”

The thought of Dean’s beautiful eyes—which already reminded him of summer leaves transitioning into an autumn gold—fading into white, and slowly drained of life was enough to turn Castiel’s stomach.

“Please… I only have so much time with you. Don’t squander it because you think it is the only way to make things right.”

“What do you want me to do then?” Dean demanded, his voice showing exhaustion beyond his years. “It’s not like I can just walk up to the King of Dragons with a dangerous weapon and walk away unscathed.”

“I know that. Which is why _we_ need to be smart about this and build an army of our own.” Castiel looked down at Zeke and rested a hand against his sturdy neck. “My father has wronged both his own kind and the humans. Worse, he intends to start a war between all of dragon kin and humanity.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean cursed. “This is something you should have mentioned before!”

“The war might not happen. War isn’t in our nature like it is in humans’. At least I hope it would be delayed without the support of the wyverns, but I’m starting to question my father’s bloodlust.”

“Only now?” Dean murmured.

Castiel chose to ignore that comment. “If we can sway the wyverns to be our allies we can hold off any other war talks, and hopefully clear a path for us when the time comes. I think we can get the drakes to align with us as well.”

 _/The drakes would gladly take the opportunity to overthrow that tyrant,/_ Zeke promised. _/We all deserve a leader who treats his people with respect, and doesn’t disfigure them for having differing opinions./_

Castiel winced, remembering the dull eyes of every drake he came across. He was foolish for not paying attention to their suffering before, but he vowed to never overlook them or their pain again. “We also should alert any hunters that you trust.”

“Not many of those,” Dean admitted. “Most of the ones I knew died, and I don’t want to get the Harvelles involved.”

“They are already involved,” Castiel pointed out. “And they can spread the word that not all dragons are evil, just as not all humans are evil. There are innocent dragons out there who get killed by your people. If we slow the number of kin being killed, then we make it harder for them to justify a war.”

“Are we counting wyrms in that? Because those bastards can consume a whole village if left unchallenged.”

“Admittedly, wyrms are our least favorite kin. There’s very little love between them and the rest.”

“There’s one other issue with your plan. Isn’t the King supposed to be omniscient or something? Wouldn’t he know if we are planning an uprising?”

“He would, but he can’t see me or fates directly tied to me.” Castiel frowned, not sure where that information was coming from, but it felt true. “It’s why he couldn’t see too far into your future and whether or not you would succeed in finding Colt’s wand.”

It’s why his father could never predict if he had a mate out there. It wasn’t because one didn’t exist but because his father couldn’t see.

“Why would he have you join me then? Why not someone else?”

“Because no one else is a healer,” Castiel slowly said, but that didn’t feel right. “No. Because he already looked through every other option and you would have killed them all. He was more willing to sacrifice me than the others.”

Castiel didn’t realize that Dean had guided Baby closer until he felt Dean’s hand on his arm. Castiel looked over to see his favorite hues shining forth in his mate’s eyes as well as the magic that was swirling around him.

“That’s his mistake, Cas. You’re not a scapegoat that he can just sacrifice like that.”

“Neither are you, Dean,” Castiel said, begging Dean to understand.

“Trust me, Cas. I have no intention of dying on purpose. I want to live. I want to live a long life with you. One where we can grow old… or, well, where I can grow old and you can grow more ancient, together.”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I want us to be able to have a life full of adventure when we want it, and a home where we can enjoy the quiet,” Dean continued. “Something big enough that can house you in both forms.”

“That would be quite a large home then,” Castiel teased. “More like a palace.”

“Fitting since you’re technically royalty. But the more important thing is that it will be ours.”

“You really don’t mind my true form?” Castiel asked.

“Cas, it’s you. How could I not love both?” Dean said sincerely, and his magic glowed brighter at the admission.

Castiel shouldn’t have been surprised when his own grace reached out towards Dean’s magic, slowly entwining itself until their colors bled into one another. Castiel felt a rush of love wash over him as their souls intermingled, and once again he was reaffirmed that Dean was always meant to be his mate.

“I love you too, Dean, and I promise that I will do everything in my power to right my father’s wrongs,” Castiel said.

Castiel didn’t care if his allegiance to Dean would be considered treason by many of his brethren. Even if he didn’t love Dean, he knew that he couldn’t just stand aside and let his father continue to devour innocent lives.

He also couldn’t let Dean suffer the pain of losing his little brother.

Castiel could only hope that his own brother would forgive him for falling in love with his killer.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic was suppose to be much longer, but then three things happened. 1, my coworkers started dropping like flies, and I was working 12 hour shifts. 2. COVID, and I got sick bad enough to get tested for it. 3. As soon as I got the all clear from the hospital, I was immediately thrown back to work. I knew this story was destined for a sequel either way (it's me we're talking about), and I had to make the decision to end this fic sooner before it got too messy. But don't worry, there are many more adventures to come.
> 
> As always I never would have been able to pull things off without an amazing support system. Big thanks to 3195 for letting me go crazy with their art pieces and giving me their blessing to turn this into a crazy series.
> 
> Huge thanks to the lovely DarcyDelaney who yet again saved me and spared all of you from my horrendous mistakes. I wrote so much of this story while sleep deprived and Darcy had to put up with a lot of chaos. Also huge applause since I've put this poor women back to back with about 300K worth of editing in less than a year! I'll never get over how lucky I am to have you as a beta.
> 
> Also huge thanks to my second beta, elephino_forthehalibut who was my additional set of eyes, and made the final editing process so much easier. They were also amazing at spotting when I was using the same word too many times, and always came up with great suggestions.
> 
> Of course I wouldn't have been able to do much without my sprint team and discord friends: Ang, Threshie, Bonnie, Deancebra, and Jaeh. You guys kept me motivated, even when I wanted to rage quit. (But seriously guys, never let me work on two epics ever again, no matter how much I beg).
> 
> There's no way I can forget to thank my number one and ever loyal fan, my roomie. She's the one who encourages my love of combining science in the fantastic, is always around to offer some advance vet knowledge. Love ya, sis.
> 
> And finally thanks to all of you for reading, and a special thanks to those of you who comment, or have been following my other works. You guys are my fuel and lifeblood, and your feedback is so appreciated.


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